Sun Dragon

Dragon Description:

From a distance, the Sun Dragon appears as though it is made of pure flames. In truth, it is not made of flame at all but it does maintain a constant should of flames around it's body. This allows for both very effective armor and a stunning appearance.

During its adolescent stages, a Sun Dragon's body begins to excrete an oily substance through it's skin which burns slowly over time, like napalm. When it reaches this age, the Dragon is ignited by it's elders. Sun Dragons are totally immune to fire.

After it is ignited, the Sun Dragon's flames will continue to blaze for the whole of the dragon's natural life span. Sun Dragons are extremely fierce in combat. The Sun Dragon is among the noblest breed of dragonkind.They are revered both for their ferocity in combat and their great wisdom.

Epilogue

The sun sets upon a pair of hills coated in gold, where a river lazily snakes its way down and astride the hills, a small branch leading into a pond, a pool really, with mortar and blocks penning the water in. Trees surround the lone deep pond. Trees with leaves of all colours – it's obviously in autumn. A small family of foxes lie in the hole they dug under the roots of an American Beech tree, feeding on their latest kill of rabbit. Lizards sunning themselves on what could be the bank of the clear, blue pool while the others of their kind lie in wait in the shrubs for the insects that are already there and those that would flock there come night.

A fallen log lies beside the pool, only a small part-the middle- polished from being sat upon so often. In front of the log, facing the pool, stands a gravestone marker with two rabbits decorating the sides of the name. Behind the log, there is a trail trampled by a single pair of feet. Trampled when the man comes to mourn, and trampled when the man comes to rage.

Dusk becomes more prominent, throwing the little clearing into twilight. Further away from the solitary clearing, following the direction of the trail, the silhouettes of a windmill and several buildings are visible. A two-storey house with a bunkhouse attached to its side, a chicken shed, a stable and a smoke house; a pig pen, or what might be a corral for larger cattle, laying just a few metres away from the main buildings; and surrounding the buildings were a sea of fruit trees and vegetable plants: apples, cherries, peaches, ‘cots, nuts, tomatoes and a few berry shrubs. Fenced off from the main crops, was a place for alfalfa and nearly right beside it were the rabbit hutches.

Rustling in the brushes near the trail alerts all the animals; the foxes raise their heads as their ears twitch and everything falls into silence. The foxes go deeper into their den as the lizards scurry under the many stones that scatter across the pool’s bank. A small slightly hunched old man strolls into the clearing, for once not trampling upon the trail, and heads over to the log in front of the gravestone. The old man who was once so sharp and defined had now softened through the times and his eyes, once so restless and sharp, are now useless without his glasses and slow to recognise those that he sees.

“How ya doin’ Lennie? Is George, remember old George? Mind if I take a set here?” George directed to the gravestone.

“No, didn’t think so. But concourse ya remember me. I was one of them things that you never really forgot.”

George looked towards the blue pool, now nearly black yet still sparkling from the setting sun.

“He died today. Candy did. Remember Candy? The ol’ guy who lost his hand and got his dog put down? We tol’ him about our dream and he wanted to join in with us as well. Offered his money for a share of the piece of land we was gonna get.” George paused as he contemplated what to say. His face contorted in something like anger as well as grief.

“I tol’ you to leave her be, Lennie! I tol ya not to go talking to her! But did ya listen? Na, you just had to go to her and talk to her and then you jus had to kill her! If you’d had listen to me, you wouldn’t have been dead! We coulda gotten this piece a’ land faster!” George worked himself up with his bellowing.

“We coulda-“George stopped when he heard the crackling of leaves near the trail.

Another old man came into view, just like he had been when he was younger, Slim was big and tall and his hatchet face remained ageless although, his then black hair has now turned gray with age.

“George?”

“Slim? Whaddya think you’re doin’ here? The doc told ya to stay in bed! You’re no young man no more and you need you’re rest!” George berated Slim kindly.

“No worries George. I am planning on resting. I see you’re still blamin’ Lennie” Slim had a small smile on his face hinting at his teasing.

“I ain’t blaming nobody, Slim. You know that. Is jus that, when I think that he coulda still be here…” George trailed off but then shook himself, “We’re dyin’ alone, Slim. First’s Candy, and we’re not young no more. One of us is gonna be alone soon.”

Slim seemed to think for a moment, a glazed look in his eyes as if he were looking at something far away and not George.

“Slim?”

Slim sighed and crouched in front of George, blocking Lennie’s tombstone.

“D’you remember when Carl put down Candy’s dog back then? I said that ‘I wisht somebody’d shoot me if I got old an’ a cripple’” Slim’s face was serious and his voice was quiet but carried a tone of desperation and tiredness.

“Whattya sayin’ Slim?” George voice was shaky. He had sweat beading down his face.

“Like you said George, we’re old.” Slim reached into his back and took out a pistol. It was a Luger, just like the one used to put down Lennie.

“But you ain’t no cripple, Slim! You can still – “George’s voice raised in pitch. His eyes darted from side to side as if seeking escape. He started to shake.

“Do this for me, please. Take it.” Slim said with no room for argument in his voice, and handed George the gun.

George took it, used to the impulse of following Slim during their earlier years, when they were just starting out. His hands were shaking badly. He saw slim positioning himself to look at Lennie’s grave, and the pool and the river and the hills.

 
“Do it.” Slim encouraged him.

 
George placed the Luger against Slim’s head, hands still shaking. His face was screwed up and he still looked undecided.

 
“Do it.” Slim repeated.

 
George hands started to steady but his eyes were still darting and he had started to pant. He continued to argue with Slim, not wanting to kill his remaining friend.

 
“Please Slim. Don’ make me do this, please! You ain’t useless! We can still-“

 
“Do it!” Slim shouted. And just like that, George’s finger pulled and the shot rang. And Slim fell with a thud.

 
“No!” George shouted. He had started to cry. The gun fell from his fingers and he had placed his hands on his head.

 
“No, no, no, no, no!” he had started to mumble. Through his tears, he saw a glimpse of the gun. Thinking of the place he and Lennie, along with Candy and Slim would soon be living in, he smiled, took the gun and placed it beside his head.