Whoosh. A twinkling gateway open into the gloom, and air rushed past. It let pass one thing, a single solitary item, then shut without a trace.

* * *

He wanted to cry. To scream, and run around. But his situation made that impossible. He was awake and aware, yet unable to twitch even a muscle. Vivid images of coma patients flashed through his mind, but he quelled them; refusing to let fear overpower him.

It felt like months were passing, the time trickling by as he slipped in and out of consciousness. In the darkness he groped for some recollection about how he came to be in his current state. He realized that much of his recent memory was a blur.

The only things he recalled were a few vague dreams; five in total. All alike, they featured a dragon. He tried to squint his eyes, realized he couldn’t squint anything, and sighed internally. Sidetracked he almost forgot about the dreams, until they surfaced in his mind of their own accord.

Picking one out of the mix, he examined it. Delving deeper, there was a sudden flash of crystal clarity as he was sucked into it.

He was soaring into the sky with the power of his own gigantic wings. Hundreds of feet across, he could only be described as majestic. With a rudder-like tail steering him straight to the clouds, he broke through their flimsy barrier.

His vision flashed white as damp vapor caressed his scales. Rising above the surface, residual trails of the cloud streamed from his snout and spines. The peachy sunrise was visible for a few seconds, as he hovered stationary above the world.

With a quick flick of his powerful tail he plunged towards the ground once more. After he fell below the clouds, he folded his wings. Savoring the feeling of freedom and rushing wind, he urged the wind spirits around him to help accelerate his descent. When he was a tree’s distance from the ground he spread his wings and pulled up sharply. A growl emanated from his chest, and a heavy grating roar broke forth from deep inside him. He…

“EEEEKK”. A sudden high pitched squeak broke his concentration. ‘What was that?!? That couldn’t have been me, right?’ Hesitantly he tried it again. Imagining the roar, gathering air into his vast lungs, and…

“EEEEKK”. A smile snaked across his lips, or tried to at least. Until he realized an EEEEKK wasn’t a sound that humans would, or even could, make. His heart started to race as panic set in. ‘Ok. Think about it rationally. Rationally. Ok, rationally. Either I’m stuck, unable to move, surrounded by wild creatures, and somehow actually became one myself,’ he scoffed, ‘or I am imagining the whole thing.’

He chuckled a little. ‘Of course, that’s what it was. I’m imagining the whole thing. Soon enough I’ll wake up in bed, and have some breakfast, and…’ His thoughts trailed off into a fantasy.

While the silly young dragon enjoyed his reverie, the rest of the house was in an uproar. “The young master!”, “Aahh.” and “Is everything okay?” were all echoing down the halls. A great number of scrabbling noises could be heard as many of the denizens of the mansion rushed towards the nursery wing. The lady of the house stood at the door, and warded almost everyone away. When the woman, a nursemaid, she was looking for arrived, she grabbed the arm of a trusted young maid and instructed her not to allow anyone else inside. She then took the middle-aged nurse maid into the enormous room and joined her husband.

“What’s happening?” she interrogated her partner. “Is my precious baby okay?” Her eyebrows creased, bringing an air of tension to her striking face. The only thing betraying her worry was the fold in-between her slanted eyebrows. He reached his hand to her face and caressed her. Simultaneously they looked towards their child. He pulled her closer to himself and comforted her, arm resting around her elegant waist.

“It’s alright. Our son has gotten to the age where his body is mostly developed. Although rare for dragons to speak, or even really move before a year, it is not completely unheard of. He is alright. We are alright.” They clung to each other, praying that their son would be okay.

The tiny dragon, who was lying on his cushion, heard what they were saying. He wrinkled his brow, and to his surprise, it actually moved. Although not much, it was still the first progress he’d had in what seemed to be months. His access to his own body startled him, but not enough to completely distract him from the current happenings.

He turned his attention back to the strange language his parents were speaking. To his surprise, with a little work he could understand it. He pondered for a moment, until their conversation brought to mind the dragon dreams he’d just had.

He tried to dive into another one of the dreams, like he had before. This time he had the specific goal of language in mind. He was amazed as the same sense of sereneness that he’d had the last time appeared as he once more made contact with the strange vision.

He cocked his head, surveying his new surroundings. He was sitting on a black chair, fairly cold to the touch. Underneath his booted feet there was a rug. It vaguely reminded him of the fantastic oriental rugs in his grandparents’ home. Across the small room there was a bookshelf the size of the wall stuffed to brim with all sorts of books, some in languages he couldn’t make out. On the wall next to the gigantic bookshelf there was a window. It took up over half the space on the wall, and provided ample light to the room.

A light cough broke him from the reverie and he noticed someone else in the room. Someone who looked like a human, but wasn’t. He intuitively knew the strange person was a dragon. This person was teaching him how to speak the language his parents had just spoken. (Although the true name of the language was eloquent and noble, as befitting the race of high dragons, it shall just be called Draconian; for simplicity’s sake.) After listening for a minute, it all came back to him. He finally knew there was no way this was a dream; one does not simply create an entire language while asleep.

After confirming his suspicions about his current situation, he wrested himself from the flashback. The room shattered, and his mind returned to blankness. He felt far more tired than he should have. He tried to speak, or even squeak once more, but he found himself too exhausted to complete the task. Full of regret he slipped back into unconsciousness.

* * *

Exiting the room hand in hand, the lord and his lady turned towards the maid waiting just outside the door. Grabbing her skirts she curtsied deeply, awaiting instructions. They were forthcoming. “Summon the elders. Tell them to come for dinner. Tonight. Make sure they know it’s an emergency.” The lord ordered, gesturing towards the door at the end of the hall. The maid bowed, and was preparing to go when the lady stopped her, adding a small provision to her orders.

“Only invite Elders Zim, Adir, and Gereon.” The maid nodded, curtsied again, and left. The lady faced the Lord. “It’s best not to spread this too far. We don’t know if we can trust everyone.” The lord gave her a gently approving look, and kissed her on the cheek. She smiled endearingly, ruby lips curved gracefully, but they were still unable to hide the worry she felt. Even her typical impassive mask failed her.

He tried to alleviate the pain she felt. “The elders will tell us everything is perfectly fine. We have no cause to worry about Ezekiel. Even if… No, never mind. He’ll be fine.” He looked like he was going to continue, but she broke him off.

“I know.” she said, giving him a thin smile. “They should be arriving soon. They wouldn’t dare be late, since it is us who summoned them.”

“Yes, we’d best get ready quickly.” They held hands for a second longer, parting ways with only a slight reluctance. Their minds were filled with trepidation and hope alike.