Karlia yawned, spitting out a gust of smoke. She lazily stretched out her scaly legs, fluttered her huge blue wings, settled in more among her collection of Hannah Montana memorabilia.
A humanoid paused at the entrance to her cave. He wore an orange and red robe, and seemed to be a teenager. “Hello, sister. What do you think?” He entered the room, stepping over a few plastic cups emblazoned with Hannah’s image, and stood in one of the only available places in the room. He raised his hands over his head and turned around slowly.
She clicked her pointy teeth together. “Passable.”
He looked dejected. “I want them to not notice I’m different.”
“They’re humans. They’re all one step away from apes and won’t notice if you show up with horns and a tail.”
“You’re going to Paragon City in Rhode Island, right?” said a deep manly voice, this of a bright yellow dragon with tiny yellow and white wings that sparkled as they moved.
“Yes,” said the teenager.
“Cool. When you die, can I have your stuff?”
The teenager rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to die there. The Fates have decreed it.”
Karlia said, “Don’t let the humans tell you that you can change your fate. They’re all stupid in believing you can change your end. You can always change your path on how you get there, but the end is still the same.”
The yellow dragon snorted smoke. “I really wanted that old-school Megatron that’s a gun, Stilfor.”
“No.”
“How about Starscream?”
“NO.” The teen glared at the yellow dragon. “Matchboxes are suddenly boring?”
“I was thinking of switching to Pokemon. Have you seen their selection on ebay?”
“Speaking of ebay,” said Karlia, “What’s the bid up to on that HM pink umbrella from Disney? It’s ending today.”
Stilfor sighed. “I’ll go check.” He knew his sister and brother were too lazy to change into human forms, except when they needed to get stuff for their collections. The yellow dragon followed.
“I’m not sure about Matchboxes anymore. Nobody seems to be into them. They’re not really collectables any more. You got in on the ground floor with the Transformers, Still, and now look, that stuff’s gone sky high on ebay!”
“Will you please shut up, Kiiro.”
The dragon’s hackles, pointy white quills, rose up on the back of his neck. “It’s Noria-san.”
“Kiiro-san,” Stilfor said with a smirk. “Mr. Yellow.” Stilfor got to the computer. “You’re going to have to keep track of the auctions while I’m gone.”
Kiiro grumbled.
“Go tell Karlia it’s up to $35 and it’s cheaper at Amazon.”
Kiiro turned his head and bellowed down the hall, “It’s up to $35 and it’s cheaper at Amazon!”
“I could have done that,” muttered Stilfor.
“Does it qualify for Amazon Prime?” yelled Karlia back.
“Yes,” said Stilfor quietly.
“Yeah!” yelled Kiiro.
“Get it there.”
Kiiro turned to Stilfor. “She said – ”
“I heard.” He put the order in and left the computer. “Those keyboards aren’t up to dragon claws, so you’ll have to change.”
Kiiro grumbled again.
Stilfor gathered up a backpack and a suitcase. Stilfor patted Kiiro’s haunch. “Good. I’m going to see father and mother and then I’ll be leaving.”
“Ryujin gokago.”
“Same to you,” Stilfor said, smiling. He went down the long ebony hall – long for a human, but pretty short for a dragon.
He came out into the chapel, where his parents normally were. The chapel was full of bonsai trees, which his mother busied herself taking care of and raking the stand they were planted in. His father was watching a football game on a 52 inch wide plasma TV, while seated on the couch, eating nachos. Both were in human form: His mother, a beautiful woman in a flowing gold and white dress that might have come from some Medieval Ren-faire; his white-haired father in a blue workshirt with the name “Don” emblazoned in yellow over the right pocket, in blue Dickies and a pair of well worn, greased black work boots.
“Mother, father? I’m going now.”
His mother looked up. “I’m so glad you’ve decided to go among the humans for a while,” she said, drifting toward him. She took his face and kissed him on both cheeks. “It is good for a dragon to get to know those less fortunate.”
A shout came from the couch, and his mother turned with a disapproving look to face his father. He must have felt her glare, because he suddenly hunched his shoulders, and turned around slowly. “Oh, Still.”
“I’m leaving father.”
“Good luck then.” He returned to the TV.
“Hycanin,” snapped his mother. “It’s TiVo. Pause it and say goodbye to your son.”
He did as he was told, getting up from the couch. Hycanin was a big man with not an ounce of fat at all. The only thing that showed his difference than a regular human was that his eyes were golden all the way through.
He looked Stilfor over. “Very good, son. You’ll pass for seventeen or so.”
He beamed. “Thank you, father.”
He put his arms across his broad chest. “This where I guess I give you advice?”
“That would be good,” muttered Stilfor’s mother.
“What name are you going by?”
“Drake Nolan.”
His father nodded. “Good. Do not give away your true name to anyone, ever. Don’t trust magic users or those who are magical. Be friendly, tolerate them, but don’t trust them. Try not to breed, if you do, use protection.”
“Father!”
“You never know, you may be attracted to a female human, or there may even be a dragoness there. There’s all kinds of crazy things in that city, and you’re going there with all your abilities intact. That’s something that was never done in our day.” He glanced at his mother.
His mother said, “We would assist humans, but quietly, without fanfare, and especially not as a hero.”
His father then came forward and took Stilfor into a tight hug. “You get into any trouble, you text us, you hear?”
“I hear, father, and obey,” he grunted as best as he could in his father’s strong arms. His father released him. He pointed to the floor, and a rift appeared, which opened up to what looked like an office. Stilfor – Drake – hefted his bags and jumped in.
Words: 1052
Inspiration: Character created. “Our Dragons Are Different” trope.