My paper was filled with Greek that, in no way, was going to be translated correctly by tonight. By what I had now the first sentence went something like, 'The bad Greeks, who had red shoes, were hurling fire onto the town.'

A cool breeze came through the cracks in the window next to me. It chilled my back quickly and I wondered if I should put a sweater on. The breeze was annoying at points but not necessary to turn on the heater. I looked back down at my Greek and closed the book with not much care for who threw what where.

My desk lamp was the only thing that lit the small room. My roommate was somewhere else which made the room quite except for the music coming from my headsets. I looked down at my other books and pushed them into a drawer. I shut off the stereo and removed the headsets. I opened the window and glanced out Slowly I began to remember.

Somehow his name came back to me. Weather it came to me by the books I was studying or just because I began to dream was unclear. What ever the case the name, now remembered, floated in my mind and I wondered if he too still remembers.

We would take rides on nights like these, with the stars and the moon so clear it seemed that they were just painted on. He would scratch at the window if it was closed and I would rush over to open it.

In the dark sky outside there would be a smile on his face as I gave one in return. His eyes would glow red in the darkness with the fire that sat inside of him. A fire so tense that it could burn a bridge like dry leaves that are used to start a camp fire. Still, the eyes were filled with tenderness that first brought the trust of him to me.

He would ask how has it been since the last time we were together. Somehow, I knew that he had the answer before I would say them. It would seem that out of the corner of my eye I would see him behind some tree or building watching me. Making sure I was safe.

Then came the part that I waited for. He would ask if I would like to take a ride. He would ask as if he was asking for the first time filling the question with the wonderment that would always follow.

I wondered how big he would be. When I was a child, I would have to lift my head to see his if we stood on the ground together. He would bring his head down to mine when he noticed so we could look at each other like friends.

His body was always warm. It kept me warm to those night breezes when I had my night clothes on. His scaled skin was like a soft quilt. It is believed and true that the scales on a dragon are tough to deflect the arrows and swords that try to enter the dragons skin, but only on the bottom. The top softens up slightly and makes it a perfect saddle to ride on or to lay down upon.

The rides at night across the moon sky. That's all that I could think about. How it seemed that it was the grandest thing in the world. No ride of amusement, story from a movie screen, or tale from a book could compare to what it was. I still remember how my night shirt would flap in the wind when I raised my hands to the wind. The laughter that came was in the purest form of joy. The sights were as if the world was painted for me.

How trees flew by! Their tips seemed as if they were trying to reach up and grab us. Eagles and owls would fly by and join in the race for only a moment and we were off again. The lake that we passed over every night reflected the moon in a streak of light that only from above could it be seen.

The wind rushed passed my ears filling them with it's wailing. The beating of his wings accompanied the sound until he would stop. His wings would stay still by his side and we would glide. Nothing was in control of us. We were in control of nothing.

I thought back to the time when he let me take a scale that had fallen off of him when we landed. It was still warm to the touch. I remembered how I hide it away in my backpack and took it to school so it could be near me. I took it out to a show it to some people but nobody believed that it was a real dragon's scale. It was just laughed off as some strange shaped rock. It was not long after that that it disappeared. It could of been taken from my backpack by some bullish kids or lost somewhere where children's toys go.

I smiled back to those memories. What it would be if it could be again. I looked back at my drawer of books and then at the door to my room. There was something going on outside the door. Perhaps a light hearted shuffle between friends. They wouldn't hear, I thought as I looked out the window. No one was outside on the ground. I hesitated for a moment before I called out.

"Xavier."

It started out as a shout but turned to more of a whisper. I then stared out at the tree that glowed with fright from the lights of the windows from other dorm rooms. It was the only thing that swayed in the wind to my call.

I looked down and slide the window closed not really expecting a response. It had been to long. Dragons are not immortal. Though I thought he would live longer then me and more. Maybe they were right. Perhaps it was just a rock. Just turned into something more by a boy's imagination. I shuffled all my papers into a folder and shut off the light.

The light was not off for more then a moment before I heard a scratch at the window. I pushed desk seat away as I reached to turn on the light again. Quickly I opened the window to it's widest causing it to slam within it's frame. Perhaps it was just a branch or some other thing caught in the wind that had scratched across the window. Perhaps, but I didn't want to guess.

The same darkness was there. Everything was as it was when I last looked out the window. All, expect two glowing spots behind the tree floating up and down. They were red with the fire that burned behind them.

An uncontrollable smile came over me like one a child would make who has no care of the reactions he might get. Though he had aged along with me with the years he stilled looked like he did when he first came to my window that night so many years ago. I leaned back in the room as he flew closer.

"Hello," I said.

"Hello," he said in return. "It has been awhile."

"Yes."

We talked as friends do when they been away from each other. He still asked the same questions that he has done since. He listened to each answer for this time he did not know. There was a moment of silence before he spoke again and it was filled with the wonderment that was soon to follow.

"Would you like to take a ride? It is a nice night. You might want to take a sweater, though. It's a little cold and I don't know if I could keep you warm as I had done before."

I was sure that he could as he had done in the past.