Mrikal scowled at the ground before where he sat. Inside he was seething, but his scowl seemed resigned and he forced it to stay that way. The young men gathered around him poked and prodded him with sticks, taunting him and calling him a freak. He clenched his jaw and continued to scowl at the ground.

“You freak,” said one of them, a nasty sneer on his face, “it’s no wonder your parents are dead. They probably died of horror when they found out what you really are.”

Mrikal made no response, though inside he was screaming that his parents had not cared, they had loved him anyway. They had not died of horror or heartbreak as another piped up with. They had died of natural causes, indeed they had been too old to have a son his age.

“I know what we should call him!” yelled one of the taunters suddenly and the others looked at him eagerly. The young man grinned and sneered at Mrikal. “Human, for only a human could be as pathetic as he is, with no magic.”

Mrikal winced, but other than that he showed no emotion, eventually the young men left and Mrikal was left in peace. He hung his head, allowing the tears to fall, for though he tried not to let it bother him their words always stung worse than he let on. To be one of the elfin nation and have no magic was a shameful thing. He had had lessons before his parents’ death. One of the great magi had come and tested him, given him exercises that were designed to bring out his natural talent and allow him to control and use it. But the tests and exercises had failed to bring forth the tiniest sparkle of a magical gift. His parents had been disappointed, but they had tried not to show it and had not cast him from their house, as many other elves would have.

But then they had passed on and left poor Mrikal to deal with the taunts of the young men his age. Most of the time he could escape their censorious eyes and their provoking words. He tried to convince himself daily that he had some other great worth, that there was some divine reason behind his lack of magic, but every day it became harder to believe. Had his parents still been alive he would surely had believed it still, but they were not. The tears fell harder and Mrikal succumbed to them, letting them drip forlornly into his lap as he curled up with his back against the strong bark of a large tree.

The next day found Mrikal again sitting in the forest, back against his favorite tree. He loved coming here, and refused to find a new spot despite the fact that the others knew where to find him here. Something about this tiny clearing in the middle of a huge forest and this large tree at his back was soothing; it seemed to speak to him somehow, though he had begun to think it was only his imagination.

Mrikal leaned his head back against the tree, his chin-length blonde hair falling away from his face. His hair was short for an elf and though he hated the dishonor of having short hair he appreciated it when the summer winds blew hot. But today was a bright spring day with birds all atwitter in the branches above and he sighed in contentment, grateful for this one peaceful moment in time.

It was broken of course by the sound of twigs snapping beneath the feet of his tormentors. They made no pretenses of silence in this forest, even though the elfin code was to seek not to disturb nature. That group’s secret code was simply to torment Mrikal and he sighed as he listened to their approach. For the first time in his life he sincerely wished he had magical powers. Not for his own redemption, no, but so he could vanish and avoid these young men forever. He closed his eyes and wished it fervently.

The approaching footfalls stopped then and he heard a few snickers. He clenched his eyes shut and wished again. This time he felt something loosen inside of him, as if there had been a knot deep in his stomach that had just come undone and he heard his tormentors gasp in astonishment. His eyes flickered open to see a bright portal shining before him. The light shining from it was so bright he could not see the landscape but he got an impression of wide-open spaces and beautiful trees.

Mrikal stood up, wondering if he had indeed created this portal. But he had no time to contemplate as the young men, recovering from their astonishment moved forward as if to attack him. Without thinking twice Mrikal flung himself through the portal and it winked out so quickly that he had to jerk his foot to him to keep it from being cut off by the closing portal. Mrikal lay there on his side for a moment, cradling his leg to him and staring blankly at where the portal had been. He blinked slowly then shook his head and looked around. He knew instantly that he was no longer on elfin lands. In fact he seemed to be on a different planet altogether.

He stood; brushing dust from his pants and his brightly colored tunic. His blonde hair covering his ears he headed along the dirt path he was on. There seemed to be some sort of mountain dwelling at the end of the path and he headed there, in hopes of finding someone who could tell him where he was. As he walked he groped for that knot that had untied itself not long ago but it was as if it had never been there, he felt just as bereft of magic as he ever had. He frowned and kept walking, looking about him for signs of trouble all the while.

Mrikal walked through the tall silver gates, which marked the entrance to the mountain dwelling he had seen and found himself standing in bright sunlight and a large open area surrounded entirely by high cliffs, which seemed to have holes carved out of them. He stared around in wonder and his mouth fell open as he saw a large green dragon land in the center of that open space. He leapt to the side, creeping into the shadows off to one side, fearful of being seen. Dragons were known to be fiercely territorial and not at all kind to elves and humans. Cursing himself for being so foolish as to have stumbled into a dragon’s home he looked around for any chance of undetected escape, keeping one watchful eye on the dragon, terrified the creature might sense him and tear him to pieces.

But then he saw a woman climbing off the dragon’s back and he stared in wide-eyed shock as the dragon turned its head to nuzzle the woman affectionately. What sort of place was this that dragons could be so friendly to people? He watched as the woman gently stroked the dragon’s head and suddenly realized she must have the beast under a spell. He could see her murmuring words to the creature as she spoke and he nodded his head in silent confirmation of his suspicions. This was a powerful sorceress indeed to have so thoroughly ensorcelled a dragon as to make it affectionate. He suddenly realized that he was in a great deal of danger being in a place like this. A woman powerful enough to have ensorcelled a dragon could easily dispose of him and he had no magic with which to defend himself.

Mrikal leapt to his feet and dashed for the gates, but he never made it. Before he had gone two strides he found someone in his path and in his fright he collapsed to the ground in a faint.

Mrikal’s eyes fluttered open and he immediately remembered where he was. He struggled to his feet, and found several puzzled faces watching as he did so. He backed away from them slowly, hoping they would not throw a spell over him in some way before he could reach the exit. Dismayed he realized he was backing in the wrong direction and he stopped as he saw the exit behind the people watching him. He looked elsewhere, hoping to find another exit and his eyes rested once again on the green dragon, standing frighteningly close. Mrikal gasped and froze, pressing his back against the nearby wall as the dragon’s blue and green facetted eyes regarded him.

The beast watched him for some time then swung its head to look at the other people who were now walking forward to surround him. Mrikal groaned and closed his eyes, not wishing to watch them command the dragon to dispose of him. It took him a long time to realize that the dragon was crooning softly and that the people were trying to talk to him. In his fright he had blocked his ears to all sounds, and as he relaxed minutely he realized they were talking in concerned tones.

“Ah, now at least he’s looking at us,” said one man and arched a brow at Mrikal. “Can you tell us your name at least, boy?”

“Mrikal,” he replied, shocked at the man’s friendly tone.

“Mrikal,” repeated the elfin man and frowned. “That’s certainly not the name of anyone who came with us. How did you get here, Mrikal?”

“I-I don’t really know,” replied Mrikal, still pressing his back against the wall and eyeing the dragon nervously. “Who are you people?”

“I apologize, I’m A’chel, rider of bronze Cerlueanth,” said the man, pointing to a large bronze dragon standing not far behind the green one. Mrikal’s eyes widened at the size of the beast and he pressed his back even harder against the wall.

“I’m Silme,” said an elfin woman, laying an affectionate hand on the green dragon’s head, “and this is my green Randith. You have no idea how you got here?”

“I-No, not really. I was sitting in a clearing and I wished to be able to escape-” Mrikal cut off, self-consciously twirling a strand of his short blonde hair around a finger.

“Escape from what?” prodded A’chel, concern in his eyes.

“My tormentors,” whispered Mrikal, then revealed the rest in a rush of breath, “but then I felt this odd feeling inside me and I looked up to see a portal in front of me. Without even thinking I jumped through and found myself not far from this place. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you! Please don’t cast any spells on me!”

“Spells?” laughed Silme. “Why would we cast any spells on you?”

“Well, you’ve obviously got those dragons ensorcelled!” cried Mrikal, his eyes widening in fear as he regarded the green, Randith, who was still crooning and was slowly inching closer to him.

“What!?” cried everyone in unison and then Silme noticed the way Mrikal was watching her dragon. “Randith, back up a bit, give the kid room to breathe.”

The dragon looked abashed and immediately backed up, Mrikal’s eyes growing even wider as he saw the dragon meekly obeying a spoken command. He looked around in fear and again contemplated escape. He started to inch sideways when A’chel put a hand on his shoulder.

“Come with me, Mrikal,” said the older elf. “I think you need a lesson in Pernese dragons. And in the meantime I think we’ll get you signed up for candidacy, Randith likes you a little too much and Cerlueanth likes the idea too.”

Silme smiled encouragingly to him and Mrikal was escorted from where he was out into the sunlight, past the big bronze dragon that seemed to watch him approvingly and through a tunnel. At the end of the tunnel Mrikal gasped to see a huge golden dragon curled protectively about large mounds of sands. He immediately turned tail to run, as everyone knew that you didn’t enter the lair of a mother dragon guarding her eggs! But before he could go two steps, A’chel had his hand firmly on Mrikal’s shoulder again and Silme was blocking his exit.

Around the hot sands seemed to be some sort of viewing area and A’chel sat him down on the lowest level, Silme beside him to keep him from bolting, and the two of them explained the concept of Pernese dragons and their special bonds with people. When they were done Mrikal just sat there, watching the gold dragon and shaking his head. They obviously weren’t as in control of the dragons as they thought they were and he dreaded the day they would force him to face a hatchling dragon and “impress” it, for he had no magic with which to control the beast!

Not yet...

Duh! Not yet!

Obviously not yet! :o)