Clouddancer; An unusual
love among the ashes.

Chapter 1; Armageddon.

The sound
of the air raid alarms echoed through the village sitting in the midst of a fast
grass plane. In the distance the shade of a large city rose up from the grass.
Standing tall and proud, a testament to the might of the humans to conquer
nature and build what and where they want. The howling alarms made an ear
deafening noise. It was the fourth air raid alarm so far this month, almost all
of them during the day where drills. Trying to get people to know where their
safety bunkers are. After a year of war, of constant drills and no attacks. The
people of the village started to become relaxed about it. “We are not a target”
was the common opinion and thus, this time, everyone continued to ignore the
howling alarm like it was annoying bussing bee. However, one, just one, of the
village made way to his shelter. A young man, in his midst twenty. He was in
between jobs, he had to quit his job due to the economic effects of war. Right
now he tried to hold of a new job as long as possible, knowing what someone
with mechanical skills would do during a war. He hated the army, hated war. He
had largely isolated himself, figuring if he continued to live in the shelter
the army could not easily track him down. With a sharp metal sound the large
doors of his shelter closed down. He slide down his metal stairs the lead down
into the core of the shelter. It was his pride, originally build as a
‘man-cave’ he quickly converter it to a nuclear shelter. He was about two
meters into the ground, not deep enough to survive  a direct nuclear attack but deep enough to
survive the shock-waves and fallout.

He locked a
second blast door, that secured the entrance to the centre of his bunker. The
soft hum of the electrical engines emanated trough the quite place. Once the
hum stopped, the door was secure, the place became silent like the grave. The
young male enjoyed this solitude, alone with his thoughts. He gazed around the
place, the small kitchen he had built with an oversized fridge to freeze his
food. A bed and some tables and chairs to sit on. The place was about ten
meters long and four meters wide. More than enough space to house a whole
family, but he was alone. He enjoyed luxury that most other shelters did not
had. A flat screen television, some game consoles, more than enough food to
last him several years, and most importantly a spacious bed. The silence was
broken by yet another hum, the soft hum of the air circulation unit. He looked
to his side, next to the door, where he build a small ‘command post’. Trough
that was too much of an over statement to what it was. He mounted a few
monitors on it, showing two cameras of outside. A display showing all the
functions of the shelter such as the water reservoir, how much gasoil he still
had, the generator status, battery status, etc. He was fixed on the air
filtration system, the filter status was all green. An eye fell on the camera
showing just outside the bunker. A small group of three people had made a sign
and displayed it in front of the camera.

“come
outside, Donovan, nothing to be afraid of” The male, surged at the screen. He
did not enjoy any company of those three. If any he wished dead, it was them.
Donovan moved deeper into his bunker he often called ‘his lair’ Like often he
laid into his bed and opened a book, not fancying to watch tv at this time and
listen to all the warning messages the government put on air. The sunk into his
book, it was a case study of someone in The Netherlands who committed suicide
by jumping in front of a train. The man worked for the same company as he did,
quite some years ago. He was caught in a train exident and laid in coma for
years. Only to find his wife changed to a religious women and dating someone
else. Donovan felt sorry for him, the worse part that was not told was that the
wife was pregnant of the other one and never told him.  He read the statement a psychologist made,
how the man called Dion, was caught up in a make believe world of dragons.
Seems like someone else shared his fascination with dragons.

A sudden
loud rumble, shaking the whole bunker, caught Donovan with surprise. Everything
was shaking and it seemed like an earthquake. It was over as soon as it
started, everything returned silent once more. Only the hum of the fan was
breaking the silence. He rushed off to see the camera system but he could only
see the pop up ‘connection lost’ “another
trick?” he wondered if the group of three disconnected his camera system.
He was quick to pull of the last minutes of captured video. At first everything
was normal, the group disappeared from the images and the sky was blue. Through
the second camera, the one that had the city in the back ground, picked up a
strange trail in the sky. It was nothing like one an aircraft would make. A
small fine white line with a black object moving across the sky at an
incredible pace. Before he could make up what it was, he was shocked by a
blinding light. He stumbled back and fell on his back. The one screen showed a
giant flash and mushroom cloud. Moments later the screen turned black with the
popup ‘connection lost.’ Donovan’s stomach turned inside out.

He did not
knew how long he was sitting in the corner of his bunker, staring at the black
display. His eyes where heavy and his thoughts a mess. He stumbled along the
bunker, seeking his bed. Everyone was really dead, those who were outside could
not be alive. With a grunt he placed himself on the edge of his bed, hands in
his hair. What should he do? Go outside and seek survivors? They would be to
heavily radiated to bring them inside. He taken a deep breath, something
compelled him to go outside and see the destruction for himself. He could
hardly believe what was on the camera was real. Maybe it was all just a trick,
yes it should be all just a trick. He could just go outside, no protection and
find everything as was left. Common sense made him consider the extra
protection, yes he could be made a fool out of, but was it worth the risk of
radiation death?

He gotten
dressed in a fashionably bright yellow hazmat suit with full face mask. He took
two filters out of the drawer and hooked them in the gasmask. All dressed he
opened the second blast door. He entered the hallway that connected the bunker
to the surface via the stairs. The hatch on the top of the stairs seemed to be
still intact. No light was coming through it. The blast door slit close behind
him. Making sure that when he opened the hatch, the inner bunker was still safe
from radioactive materials. His hand touched the metal hatch that was the only
protection between him and the outside.

The sky was
no longer blue, he opened to hatch to an grey sky. He grass was scotched by the
heat of the blast. Rumble laid all around, houses where blasted the ground.
Donovan stiffened up, grasping the stairs with all his might. No this was not a
trick, this was not a game, this was real. The village, the city, everyone he
knew had been cleansed from the earth by nuclear fire. With shivering hands he
opened the hatch fully to walk up and stand up on the ground. The suit’s Geiger
counter clicked heavily. Fine ash laid out on the ground. He took a deep
breath, trying to retain from throwing up inside of his gas-mask. He stood
alone, between the ruins of the village. In the distance he could see the last
plume of smoke that was the giant mushroom cloud. He took steps forwards out of
his garden. His house was nothing more than a pile of brick and wood. He walked
into the street where cars where still burning. He could see the plumes of
thing black fog rising high into the sky. The world around him felt surreal to
look at. He was in his worst nightmare, unable to wake up from it and forced to
move along. He could see no bodies, only ash. On some places a shade was burned
into the concrete, a shade of what was once a human body. It showed to pure
power of the atomic blast even when the town was so far away. In panic he ran,
back to his bunker, back to the only environment that has not been changed.

“fuck!” he
jelled, punching the concrete walls of his dunker. Anger and frustration
boiling up to the surface. He was no longer in just the shock that overcame
him. With all his might he had to refrain from trashing the whole place into
bits. “God fucking dammed” Normally he was quite the person that swore, but
today was a special day, if any. Tears rolled from his cheeks and wet the
concrete floor. “fuck this all” he swore again punching the concrete again. He
left a red imprint, the skin of his knuckles cracked open and dripped warm
blood over his hand and down onto the concrete. He stared at the pool of tears
and blood that mixed below him. He watched how the blood mixed with the tears
and spread out in the little holes and dumps between the concrete floor. It
seemed ages before he noticed the pain on his knuckles. He cleaned of the wound
with some water and dried it. He could not afford to lose it, he had to keep
his head clear and survive.

In what
future? If he just thought about it, a nuclear strike, no doubt his country and
others fired back, no doubt most populated areas where turned into radioactive
ruins. He would be saved? But what he would be brought into? More war? Trying
to rebuild? Or people just try to take all his food? With a pained groan he
laid his head back into the pillow of his bed. He could just end it all here
and now. He gazed to the sealing, enough points to hang himself. The thought of
suicide went as quick as it came. Of course he could not do that. He was not
having the easy way out. His head moved to the side, trying to think of
something else. The first thing he saw on his side was the book he was reading
before the strike happened. The one about the engineer who committed suicide. Not
to think of it, he threw it away into a corner of the room.

He could no
longer keep his eyes open, the stress, the anger had been taking all his energy
away from him. He no longer knew how long he was awake. His body just screamed
for sleep and his mind could not suppress the urge any longer. It was not long
before he entered the twisted, blackened terrors that roamed within his mind.

Donovan walked among the green grass. Watching
the neighbourhood going on with its usual business while the alarms howled, He
knew it was not a drill it was real. He tried to yell at everyone that a nuke
was incoming but he could not give a sound. Desperate he ran to one of the
cafés. No one noticed him, he slipped through the room like a ghost. The
television was turned off, no one wanting to see the report of yet another
test. Desperately Donovan jumped over the bar and tried to turn the television
on. Yet it did not respond, his finger sank into the button. He tried again,
desperate to try and safe. In anger, in frustration he wanted to take a bottle
and mash it, trying to gain attention of everyone. His hand slipped through the
bottle like it was made of air, like he was made of air.

He tried to scream again, tried to get
attention of someone but all he did was grabbing into air. Passing through the
people he knew, the people he loved, if any. Panting in panic and fear he stood
outside on the street again, cars passing right through his body like he was
made of air. He looked up into the air. Watching the single fine trail appear
again with the black object. Speeding through the sky and towards the city. He
could do little but to stand in shock and fear, watching the black object fall
towards the city. Mere seconds later a blinding flash of light exploded from
the city. Some screamed in agony as their eyes where scorched by the flash of
light. Panic spread like wildfire, those who looked up saw the all known mark
of a nuclear detonation, the mushroom cloud starting to form above the city.
They could scream and run only for a few seconds, the air heated up. The
asphalt in the road started to become soft and plastics started to melt. The
heat of the blast scorched all. Donovan watched with shock how the cloths of
the people melted of burst into fire. Those who were saved the torment of being
burned and roasted alive by the heat of the blast had not to wait long. The
shockwave travelled over the burned grass planes, kicking up dust and spreading
it out in front of it. The dust was the first to come, blackening everything
before the shockwave knocked it all to the ground.

The shockwave passed right through Donovan
while it knocked cars about, destroying buildings, and causing destruction on
an unprecedented scale. Only one was standing when the dust settled and the
fires died, Donovan. Among the destruction his form was still standing, in
shock. He was panicking, trying to catch air while he could not breath. He
tried to gasp for air just to realise, he did not need any air. He needed
nothing but to stare and watch. His knees felt weak and he collapsed on the
ground.

One sound broke the silence, the odd sound of
guitars playing. His eyes moved up to see a single iPod surviving the
explosion. It was scorched and cracking along. But the internal speak was still
working. Music was playing, Barry McGuire.

“The eastern world, It’s explodin’ Violence
flarin’, Bullets loadin’ “ the song pierced through his body, hurting every
part of his brain that was not already trying to process the shock that
overcame him. He recognised the song all too well ‘Eve of Destruction’ His mind
latched on the song, like it was the only thing keeping him sane at this
moment.

“Such a shame” A femine voice sounded behind
him. He turned around faster than he ever deemed possible. He stared eye to eye
with a large white…creature. He must be going insane, the scaled creature was
the size of a horse, perhaps a bit larger. It had two wings and reptile like
eyes. The scales of creature was made of the purest of whites and the ash
seemed not to effect the creature’s whiteness. Donovan stumbled back trying to
run as the creature seemed to see him, to notice him.

He woken up
as his head fell on the floor, he had rolled out of bed. His head laid on the
concrete floor while he legs still laid half on the bed. He groaned from this
position and tried to push himself up. He felt weak, ill, and horrible. “What
was that dream?” he asked himself out loud once he was able to stand up. It
felt all so real to him, it surely could not be anything that was real? Day two
and the loneliness already shot into his head, or was it just the fact that
everything was dead, the world was dead and he was just alive, lonely with a
food supply that would last only so long. He should start to see if he could
grow something, he never thought about that, growing food. The IPod started to
bug him more and more, surely nothing could survive that. He groaned, he should
not really go outside to check. It should not be there…but what else could he
do? Stay inside? He should have enough air filters for two years, with five
hours outside each day. With a sigh  he
gave in into his more idiotic wished and pulled yet again the hazmat suit on.
He checked the filters and moved outside.

“So” he
talked to himself, his voice heavily muffled trough the gasmask. “I was here
and walked to the bar” he retraced his steps to the bar, or more precisely,
what was left of it. If he looked close enough he might see a few bones poking
out from beneath the rubble.  He gazed
around, looking at the crossing on the road he stood. “So here I looked at the
city” he gazed into the distance, seeing the ruins of the city. “and the IPod”
he looked over the ground to a car. He could see the burned skeleton hanging
upside down. He slowly walked to it, his knees shaking at seeing the dead. He felt
like their ghosts where present. He kneeled down and looked at the rumble. He
could see a blackened IPod laying on the floor. Snakingly he took up the
scorched device and pressed the single button. The device light up and the
cracked display showed the current song “eve of destruction” on repeat. “Great”
Donovan grunted in anger. “I drop an IPod from my bed and it shatters in a
million bits…but this one survived a fucking nuclear holocaust just to give me
the creeps.” He wanted to throw the device away with all his might. Wanting to
ruin it, to destroy it. But something withhold him, some new music would be
nice in the coming years. He pressed the play button and stood up.

With the
song blaring trough the silent ruined town he walked among the road to explore
a bit more.

“but ya
tell me.

Over and over and over, my friend.

Ah, you don’t believe

We’re on the eve of destruction.”

Chapter 2; Empty Gaze.

A week has
passed since he last found the IPod among the ruins. Donovan had set out to do
a few tasks each day not to lose himself into the mindless waiting. He had to
rebuild! Even when he knew that everything was lost. He started out by
repairing the cameras outside. He walked among the ash to find the, The lens
was broken and they were blasted a short distance among the ground but he could
salvage them later on. For now he repaired the connector on the cable and
attached shiny new spare cameras to set up a small field of few. It might be
nothing but at least he could see outside. The lack of windows in his bunker
disturbed him day by day. Not that he could demand any more luxury in his
bunker. Damned if only the internet would work he could just sit all day
playing online games! He smirked to himself, having to face the grim reality
that, and the dark humour he developed over the week. With little hope and
faced with unprecedented destruction, one could do little but to laugh at death
and take each day as a present.

Another job
he wanted to do is to see if he could remove the top soil around his garden. Maybe
that would be enough to clear the radiation. After all most of the fallout
already have settled. With a shovel he started to remove the dirt. Digging a
good ten centimetres down into the ground. Placing his Geiger counter over the
soil he could detect no radiation coming from the soil, just from every single
source around him. With that in mind he started to shovel his way through. Five
hours, each day for a week. Until the whole garden was down to the dirt. It
drastically reduced the radiation around his shelter and made the situation
just a tiny bit less grim. If he now could just find some way to keep the dust
out. A good wind and the his whole work was for nothing.

First he
started to seek between the rumble of his house, he found some sturdy timber
that was good enough to build a simple frame along the borders of his dug up
plot. He walked along the town to find bits and pieces of plastic. At the
hardware store he found some half burned plastic sheets. Bit by bit he made a
little plastic tent around the place. It was by no way wind thigh, but it might
just keep the worse of the radioactive dust out.

It was day
twenty since the nuclear strike, he had forgotten the date it was. It felt like
the nuclear explosion was something like the birth of Christ was, a fixed point
to set the date on. How would he call it? Before and after explosion? No after
Armageddon sounds better. So he lived in AA. Well that sounded like he was an
alcoholic. It was hard to be alcoholic in an situation like this, the only supply
he had was contaminated with radioactive material. He did not want to risk to
expose his body to radioactive for just a cold beer, how tempting it might
sound.

Donovan
stood in the makeshift tend he made on the surface, the radiation had
significantly dropped compared to the surrounding village but it was still not
in safe levels. He walked past the ruins of his house once again, taking a
scroll along the ruined village that he called home. Over the days he had
become accustomed to the skeletons laying around. There were simply to many to
even bother with trying to dig graves for them all. His gaze was empty, looking
at the ruins of the city. He swore he could see a green radioactive glow coming
from the city. Trough that should not be possible, radiation did not glow in
the dark. With a sign he stopped at the brother of the town and the once green
grass planes. A dead, fallen, burned tree was next to him. He remembered the
tree from when it was still alive. A beautiful cherry blossom, once colourful,
now black. The bark of the tree crumbled to dust under his hand. What surprised
him was that under all this ash and burned wood, he could still find some fine
wood. It gave him just a tiny bit of hope that this world would blossom with
live some time.

“Nature,
Nature finds a way” He assured himself, his voice muffled trough the gasmask.
He took the scorched IPod out of his pocket. The owner of this IPod had a good
state of music. Donovan had grown attached to the songs of the IPod. He pressed
the screen, selecting ‘my immortal’ to be played. The calm soothing voice from
Amy Lee echoed through the empty silence of the decaying world.

“I’m so
tired of being here.

Suppressed by all my childish fears.

And if you have to leave…”

Donovan
leaned with his back against the burned tree. His gaze blank at the grey sky,
lost in the music. The echoes of a world once alive, echoes of a world that
once dreamt, once hoped, and once wished peace. Now here, among the radioactive
rumble. With a Geiger counter clicking on the background. He found peace. He
could just sit here and wait for his timer to run off, he could feel his
tranquillity coming back to him. Sitting among the grey, the black and the
decay. He the only form of colour in his bright yellow hazmat suit. The only
form of live among the death and destruction.

When he
opened his eyes, he swore he could see a flash of white. Clear against the
black background. He stood up, switching off the device playing the music. The
world became silent again, only the clicking of the Geiger counter on the
background. “Hello, anyone there?” he called out in the silence. Hoping for an
answer. Nothing came. “Must be going insane” he rumbled to himself, dusting his
suit off from the black radioactive ash. Turning around to look back into the
town he saw it again. A white flash from the corner of his eyes. Was something
going on with his eyes? Maybe the radioactivity must have gotten to him.

He hurried
back to the bunker until he could hear a sound coming from behind him. This
could not be an illusion anymore, could it? He slowly turned around to look
behind him, prepared for whatever could be waiting for him. He expected little,
maybe a dog or cat that survived the ordeal. It did not prepare him at all for
the form he saw. Among the ruins behind him he could see a large white tail.
The tail swayed among the ground, kicking up dust. Donovan looked at the tail,
it was larger than his body whole body. The pure white was not touched by any
of the ash from the ground. Just like the
dream. He was reminded when the gazed at the white fur on the tail. He
could see scales just under the fur, making him wonder what belonged to the
fur. It could not be munitions due to radiation. Not enough time has passed
from that, could it be an escaped experiment? Well could be, but that would
mean the army would be here soon to.

Slowly he
walked backwards, keeping his eyes fixed on the tail. It twitched, swayed and
moved a bit. But the creature that the tail belonged to seemed to remain where
it was. That was until Donovan stepped with his boots on a broken piece of
glass. It cracked under the boots. The tail suddenly stopped moving. “Oh boy”
he said softly, ready to run. The tail dived away behind the building in a
smooth swaying motion. Soon a head appeared, the head must be the size of his
whole torso. Two bright, fiery red lizard eyes gazed at him. He could have been
wrong but Donovan swore he could see curiosity in those eyes. The whole head
was covered with the same white fur, two pair of horns stuck out from the head.
One, the right upper horn, had two golden rings around it. The muzzle of the
creature was running into a sharp point, something that looked a cross between
a cat’s yaws and a birth’s beak. The creature yawned while looking at him,
showing off rows of deadly sharp teeth the size of decent sized daggers. More
of its body appeared from the rubble, the while body was covered with the same
pure white fur, scales underneath. The creature was build slim, lean. Every
motion showed powerful muscles moving under the fur. One set of wings came from
the creature’s back. The wing was shaped like a bat, a leathery wing membrane.
Donovan stood, watched in shock, it was the creature from his dream. No doubt
to it. He had a better look at it, standing away from the creature, a few dozen
meters. It looked remarkably similar to a dragon, a long neck, tail and
powerful teeth. Claws that looked like it could shred flesh into bite sized
bits. It was a dragon alright, but how and why?

Donovan
stepped another step backwards. Stumbling over his own feed and falling to the
ground. The dragon, moved towards him. It’s white form almost painful to his
eyes among the black and grey from the ruins. “This is it, I am dead” He said
to himself while trying to crawl away from the dragon. He could not crawl far
before the dragon caught up to him. It pressed it’s nose against the yellow
fibre of the hazmat suit. Donovan stiffened at the touch. The dragon’s snout
was warm and soft to the touch. It almost burned into Donovan’s belly. The
dragon gazed directly into Donovan’s eyes with its red eyes. The gaze of the
dragon seemed to pierce his soul.

For a
moment Donovan thought to recognise intelligence in the dragon’s eyes. He must
have gone totally crazy, dragons where not real, animals did not have
intelligence. He moved away from the dragon a bit. It looked, confused? Yes
confused was the correct word. It tilted it’s head slightly, looking at him in
his hazmat suit. It opened it’s for a series of strange growl like sounds. The
sounds had a strange structure within. Almost was like he could hear a
rudimentary form of a language. That was absurd, no creature was…or was it?

He had to
take all things in slowly. He scrambled on his feed again, covered in
radioactive sooth. The counter clicked heavily, something that interested the
dragon greatly. Donovan created some distance between him and the dragon and
yelled through his gasmask “No!” The creature seemed to listen, well it stopped
in any case. Donovan took the moment to his advantage to retreat to the safety
of his bunker. Leaving the dragon behind. He did not look around if the dragon
followed him, he just ran as fast as he could.

“Bloody
going crazy” he said while peeling off the hazmat suit in the little connecting
hallway. He must be dreaming, it could not be any other way. He tossed the suit
aside, he would clean it later. Right now he needed some music and calming tea.
He walked through the large blast door into his bunker. Straight to the kitchen
to put some water in the heated and wait for it to boil. He selected a nice
jazzmen tea to calm his nerves down. Sitting down on his bed he waited to the
water to boil. His mind drifted to the book on his bed, the stories of dragons
and human. All by that one guy, Dion. He opened the book again, drifting with
his attention into the paged and away from the strangeness of the outside
world. Nuclear apocalypse, dragons. What was next? Elven to sing nature back to
live? Dwarfs digging underground tunnels? He shook his head and red the pages with
half his attention. Part of his mind drifting off to the monitors in his
bunker. If he could lure the dragon in front of them…but how would that proof
he was not crazy? “okay if I seem myself in the image with the dragon…it would
proof it” he told himself out loud. Diving back into the book shortly after.

A click
made him pull out of the book, he was just reading how Dion was reacting to his
first moment of walking. He laid the book down and grabbed a steel, insulated
mug from one of the cupboards. He poured the tea into the cup. His mouth into a
soft a small smile when he smelled the aromas coming from the tea. It was sure
relaxing to have a nice cup. Just too bad he could not store any more tea, else
he would have done it. While the tea was being drawn, Donovan quickly counted
how much months he could last with just one cup of tea a day. About twenty
three months, just under two years. He sighed when he realised that two months
was also his food supply, so tea was not the biggest worry he had.

His gaze
moved up again, disturbed by something on the screens. “Fuck!” he shouted,
dropping the tea cup on the ground. Spilling hot tea over his feet. Making him
swear a second time. Limping from the hot tea, he moved to the monitors to get
a better look. In the second camera, the one facing the ruined city. He could
see among the ash, the dragon moving back and forth. It was digging in the
ground and rumble. It’s muzzle bloody so it must have found something to eat.
“If I only could do that” he grumbled to himself. It would be nice to eat
something other than dehydrated or tinned food.

He watched
the dragon dig a hole in the ground. A kind of half burrow to lay in. It moved
about with the rumble, constructing a rudimentary house. It was crude, it was
ugly but it was a house none the less. Something to keep it protected and warm.
The dragon even used the left over insulation material, not as warm pillow but
as actual insulating material. Donovan let himself fall back into a chair that
was no longer there, it moved when he rushed over to the monitor. He smacked
with his head into the concrete floor, causing him to swear a third time in a
short time frame. Not only he had to face that the dragon was as real as the
nuclear apocalypse, he also had to face that the dragon was intelligent. It
might even have intelligence to rival with most humans. “Not that that was
hard” he rumbled to himself. The humans after all blew up most the earth by
this time, he was sure of that. And what was not blown up would be overrun by
refugees. Food would be scarce, medicine would be worth their weight in
diamonds. Raids would happen and people would fight to the death over each
crumb. And here a dragon was walking among the ash, like a phoenix the
beautiful white was standing out.

He could
not help but to wonder at the creature, he just had to see it with his own eyes
again. He had to touch it. He would love to run his hands through its fur. The
last he could not do, he should not expose himself to radiation. The sun was
setting into the distance when Donovan made a rush decision. He had to see the
dragon again.

Quickly he
moved about, getting into his hazmat suit, getting on his gasmask, some torches
for when it became too dark to see, and his trusty borrowed IPod. Not that the
dead needed MP3 players anyway. It also had a little camera that could help him
out with gathering some evidence on the dragon. He opened the hatch, the dragon
was not far away, just the next house over. He could already see it, and it, it
could already see him. The dragon looked eyes with him but laid comfortably in
its tent. Donovan could now properly see how the house was made. It consisted
of three big wooden beams. Two crossed against each other and hold in place
with some smaller ones. The third  laid
in the crossing and was angled to the ground. On top of it rumble like gypsum
board and Rockwool laid out. Another lair of burned plywood made the final
roof. It looked a sturdy structure, certainly when a dragon had made it.

Donovan
approached the dragon slowly, not wanting to spook it and cause it to eat him.
The dragon kept its eyes on him, watching Donovan approach it. He was just half
a meter away from the dragon. He kneeled down so he was eye to eye with the
dragon. Slowly he scuffled the remainder of the distance to the dragon. He
could feel the dragon’s hot body warm him up. It was a nice and most pleasant
source of warmth. The dragon looked with big curious eyes at Donovan. If the
dragon could make all this, it must be intelligent, if it was intelligent. Would
those strange roars and growls be its language? Did it try to communicate? “I
am Donovan” he said slowly pointing at himself. The dragon tilted its head. It
made a small soft series of growls back, not even trying to say the name and it
pointed at itself. It certainly understood something what he was saying.

Donovan
took another step, he pointed at the wooden building the dragon constructed.
“House” he said simply . The dragon replied with an earthy kind of long rumble,
it clicked its tongue and teeth at the start and finish of it. Some of the
sounds sounded a bit like rune letters. The dragon pointed at the house like
Donovan did. He remembered each of the sounds the dragon made and trough the
muffled mask he copied them as best as he could. Pointing to the house again.
He must be stupid, of course the dragon did not understood him. Would it really
have a name for house.

The dragon
nodded, ‘speaking’ again and pointing to the house. “Crap” Donovan swore
silently to himself. The dragon tilted its head again, it could clearly
understand something was wrong. He could not deny, it was as intelligent as
him. He moved his hand up and slowly towards its body. The dragon allowed the
touch. He could feel the warmth of the dragon coming from under the fur and scales.
The softness of the fur was lost to him due to his thick rubber gloves. But the
hardness of the scales, he could clearly feel. The dragon seemed to enjoy the
touch, it grumbled, sending vibrations through its body. Donovan ran his hand
up its neck, feeling the fur thicken. He hold when his hand was just behind one
of its horns. He received a strange, growl like sound that sounded a bit
suspicious like a cat’s purr.

“I made a
dragon purr” He said, over obviously surprised at the whole situation, he
touched a dragon. The dragon shifted, making Donovan jump up. The dragon moved
its clawed right front paw moved to point towards the itself. It made a strange
rumbling, growling sound like it tried to make the syllables of the word
‘dragon’. “Did you just…” Donovan’s eyes widened, looking at the dragon. How it
self-identified as a dragon, it must know humans how else? He wondered how much
English the dragon could speak, maybe they could start to learn a common way to
communicate?

Slowly he
hinged back to the dragon, moving to pet along its flank again. The dragon
accepted him again, its large red eyes at him. Donovan leaned down and leaned
against its flank. For a moment, in the grasp of a powerful dragon that could
destroy his every fibre, he felt in tranquillity. Softly he closed his eyes in
the last moments of the light. He spoke none to the dragon, just sitting and
leaning against it while watching the sun go down over the burned and destroyed
lands.

Chapter 3; the new
routine.

Waking up,
he checked the screens. He adjusted the one camera to give a better view on the
dragon’s lair. Seeing the white dragon laying in its lair filled his heart with
joy. He took another packed of tinned food from the storage. The bland food
tasted just a little bit better knowing that he was not alone. His food, white
beans in tomato sauce, laid out like a red much in the bowl shaped plate. “I
would kill for a fresh steak” he said between the bites of the bland food. For
sure, his taste buds would not survive the nuclear holocaust, even if he did.

Next order
of the day was checking the water tank, always right after food. He opened a
hatch just in front of the sink. The hatch lead to an small damp room filled
with two massive plastic tanks and some different machines. He switched on the
cold led light to show illuminate the small space better. The sides of the
tanks where cold and wet. Water condensed and dripped on the ground. It was
such a shame of the water but he did not know how to even collect it. He looked
at a small display showing the tank level. He compared it with yesterday. He
used ten litres in one day. Which was not bad at all, he could safe even more
water by not washing. Through the idea of being around more filth did not
attract him. Besides his tanks could house two thousand litres of water and the
deionizer could produce up to twenty litres of water a day.

Thinking
of, He moved towards the end of the tunnel. Where the machines where located.
Heavy stainless steel plated, to prevent radiation leaking from the machines
into the rooms. The first was the filter unit, everything seemed in order. The
motors running the fans showed no sign of wear, the oil level was in order and the
filters where still fresh. He knocked two times on the dull metal, the knocks
echoed through the air duct. He heard a soft growl through the air ducts. “Ah
the dragon has awoken.”

Three
growls of the dragon later, her was done with his check-up. He counted himself
lucky that he would not have to do any repairs to the system. Sweaty and hot
from he came from the manhole in the bunker. “shower.” he said simply pulling
his sweat-soaked shirt from his body. Behind the kitchen he had built a room
the size of a broom closet. Inside was nothing more than a drain, showerhead,
and light. He needed nothing more, he wanted nothing more. The dirt washed down
the drain, spiralling back into the tanks to be recycled into clean water.

Once
outside, dressed in his fashionably yellow hazmat suit, he searched for the
familiar white dragon. The white dragon stood out like a beacon against the
grey background. The dragon greeted him with pressing it’s nose against his
chest. He was almost pushed over, his hands clamped around it’s horns for a
last grab of stability. The dragon gave an satisfied growl. “You big ball of
mischief.” He pushed against its nose. “I hope you had a good sleep dragon” He
scratched just behind its horns. Wonder about the white creature before him.
Wondering what its gender is, if it has a gender. He stroked across the
dragon’s snout, gazing in their eyes as they looked back at him. He swore that
he saw intelligence in the eyes of the dragon. “I suppose I can’t just ask If
you’re male or female.” The dragon huffed some hot air over Donovan’s mask, it
fogged up in the hot air. “Dammit” he swore, whipping away the water that was
blocking his view. He should count himself lucky that the dragon’s behaviour
stayed so calm. In the radioactive surroundings it would not take much to kill
him, especially with the dragon’s sharp talon that can rip through flesh and
bone.

He took a
bone from the ground to throw it away. He expected the dragon to run after the
bone. Yet the dragon stood still and gazed into his eyes with an insulted look.
“Okay, okay. You do not like to run after bones” He said, retracting his hands
on instinct. He liked his fingers a bit too much for them to become dragon
food. Not that fingers would be much of an meal for a dragon this size. “Just
throw me a bone here what I should do with you.” The dragon’s reaction was a
long hard stare. “Okay my king? Queen? What gender are you?” The dragon dropped
his attention from him, turning around to seek for food between the rumble of
the town. “Women it is.” To which the dragon growled loudly “Shall I call you
king then instead?” Donovan received an sudden rubber ball to the head.
Knocking him over on his back. Great, a
dragon with an attitude.

When he
entered the fault he was sad again, he used up the air filter. The ticks of the
Geiger counter made an solid note when it came in contact with the filter.
“Dam-it” he swore.  The bin that he
stored the contaminated filters in was already full. He hit the heavy metal lit
from the bin down on the ground. “What the hell I have to do with you now?” He
stared to the filter, like it was the Holi grail holding all the answers. He
did not account for the pile of radioactive filters. He tossed aside the filter
in the airlock between the bunker and the outside world. “I should toss all
those filters away.” Not having counted up on the intensive use of going
outside. Next day would be better right?

Waking up,
checking the water tanks, checking the machines, going out. Done, dragon? Yes
the white one was still there. He walked to the dragon, smiling at it and
rubbing it’s snout. “how are you dragon” The dragon gave an exited chitter and
pushed its head against his hands. “You like rubs don’t you.” The dragon
chittered again, running its nose over the black glove oh his hazmat suit.
“Well…” he could not finish, the dragon grabbed his hand and tore of the glove.
The dragon could easily have torn of his hand, and yet it didn’t. Not that it
matter trough, the radioactive dust would get him soon enough. He had to shower
it off as soon as possible. He could now feel the soft fur against his naked
hand, he could feel the scales and the warmth. Then  he was reminded, the Geiger counter, it
always clicked, it was that noise in the background you always hear. It did not
tick, overloaded with two strange situations he stiffened, not knowing what to
do. He should check the Geiger counter, after shower, after intensive cleaning
and iodine pills.

“I have a name you know” he could hear in his head, he
looked around “who is there!” he raised his hands, breaking contact with the
dragon’s skin. The dragon gave an angry growl and bite in his hand to bring it
back to her head. “You fool! Keep your
hands on me.” Donovan looked with big eyes at the dragon. It could speak!
Well English…in his head! “YOU!” “Yes me,
you two legged ape. I can speak into your mind, nowhere else and only if you
touch my head. This land, it has a lot of energy that can kill but no magic. I
need to use every pound I have to keep alive. So we can only speak like this”
magic, dragons that speak, mental connections. Yes the radiation gotten to him,
he was going insane. “You have to listen
to me, I feel we have not a lot of time. I don’t come from here” “No shit
dragon” He said softly, yet the dragon could hear him.  “I have a name, one more time,
and I pull that helmet from your head.” Of course he had to obvious
question “What is your name?” “Xiandria
of the northern mountains. Now listen properly yellow knight, I need help back
where I come from. Death, I do not wish our world to be like this. Ruined. You
must help me, and I will be gone soon. Remember that you will see a blue crack,
like a tear, somewhere here, sometime. Step through it as fast as possible.”
Blue crack? What was all this about, he should ask but then, the rumbling of
engines. In the distance coming closer. “Who is…” “..Run you fool! Go into the bunker and remember, look at my nest.
Until the crack. Let no one enter. It will close after the first one enters.” He
was hesitant to leave the dragon alone but he did after all. After the dragon
was threatening to eat his hand. With lighting speed he ran into the bunker and
watched the screens. He could not see the dragon and the bunker made listening
impossible. He had to see what next day brought him.

Chapter 4; A death’s song.

New hazmat
suit, check, new filter, check. He was ready to go outside. He wasted no time
checking water. He geared up, A backpack filled with survival gear and at least
ten rounds of ammunitions. Then his weapon, his trustful M16. Truth was that he
did not like weapons, he hated it as the war raged on. Yet in preparation he
knew that one was necessary. With his backpack stuffed with filters, clean
water, food and other necessaries  he set
of into the world. He could hear footsteps around, did they found the dragon?
He moved along the place, out of sight. He reached the square where he last saw
her. Xiandria, if he was correct. He moved closer, trying to stay out of sight.
First thing he saw from his hiding spot between the rubble. A white body. “Xiandria”
He tried to see if she was alright, she was right? Then he saw the ugly truth,
holes, bullet holes. Her flank was covered in them. Anger filled him, rage
towards anyone who killed her, who murdered his only happiness.

“Did you
hear that?” he could hear, cracking through a distant radio. He was not alone.
He jumped into a new hiding place, sitting out who was there. He could see
camouflage suits, heavy armour made of a new light weight composite, army or
ex-army. “It must have been nothing” the soldier replied back. Donovan aimed
his gun, he should kill the murder, kill him dead. Even when rage filled him,
even when he was ready to pull the trigger, he knew that it would be his death.
Her lair, that was what she said, he should go to the lair. For what it was
worth. He sneaked along the ruins, evading the soldiers and counting them. Two
where at the edge of the town, an armoured personnel carrier in the centre.
They were still communicating with a command centre of some sort. He would be
the vengeful one, when they left, he would kill them all. He made his promise,
he would kill them all even when it was his death.

The lair
was peaceful, near his bunker. The soldiers had not threaded this far out. He
was safe, with the adrenaline rush wearing off he said down. Anger turned into
sorrow, sobbing softly. He lost her, it started to get to him, emptiness filled
his soul. The predators took another live. Was this apocalypse not enough? Did
they not kill enough lives? Did they have to kill an innocent creature, one
that brought him joy and…did he fallen in love with it? With her gone, he felt
so empty, he needed her back.

“I hear
something” Donovan looked up, two pairs of footsteps closing in. “shit” he
swore. He armed his gun, flipping the safety switch to automatic. He was ready
and looked around. “Here” A soldier said, coming around the corner, before he
could say anymore. Donovan unleashed a salvo of bullets. The weapon’s recoil
was much stronger then he thought, the bullets missed most of the time, yet
with a whole magazine of bullets, a few hit the mark, one was even deadly. It
hit the soldier in the eye, he dropped down. “Fire! We have gun fire!” He could
hear in the distance. “Bring it on” He stood tall, a firm grip against the
ground. A soldier in the distance, He fired again. Sending bullets flying
about, he out in seconds. His aim? Terrible. He tried to change quickly, but
his nerves, the adrenaline rush through his body made it hard. His hands where
shaking, his body was trembling. With a click the next mag was ready. He aimed
his gun again, two other soldiers came closer, both already aiming at him.
“Drop the gun!” a soldier behind him yelled. “Jesus Christ!” A third soldier
neared him. “He killed Scotty! The bastard killed Scotty!” Donovan snarled
back, like a dragon, at the soldier “and you killed Xiandria!”

“Who the
fuck is that!? Is that the bloody monstrosity!? You named it!? You sick twisted
fuck” The soldier aimed his gun, a more advanced rail type of weapon straight
at his head. “I should kill you, you killed my partner!” “Calm down” A voice
came from behind the wall. The soldier was not happy but lowered his gun a bit.
“Now.” The figure came from behind the wall. He was taller than the rest of the
soldier and wore more protection. The stripes on his uniform suggested he was a
general. “You need to drop the weapon nice and slow” Donovan, gritted his
teeth, he had only seconds. Three soldiers all aimed their guns at him, he
would be dead before he could even unload his gun.

A crack was
heard behind him “What the hell!” the soldiers yelled, falling back. Donovan
felt a rush of air. When he looked back he saw lighting ran about two meters
into the air. The fabric of space and time seemed to split. This must be it,
and dammed well planned. “Step away!” the commander yelled at him “We only try
to help” Donovan, lowered his gun, he raised his middle finger to the commander
“Go to hell you fucking goat fucker.” He let himself fall backwards, into the
crack. A blinding flash of light surrounded him.

“great I am
dead”

A gush of
wind surrounded him before the whole world cracked open from the white. He was
falling towards something brown, something large and something…ground. It was
the ground. He hit the ground flat on. His mask cracking, breaking apart.
“bloody hell!” He would be exposed to the radiation and…He checked the Geiger
counter, it was not broken yet the needle did not move. Back ground radiation,
just like, normal. Donovan looked up, seeing the world around him. The sky was
blue, he was between two building, constructed from a cobble stone basement
with a wooden structure. It looked late medieval, a city building. “where am
I?” he wondered, a sound in the distance catching his attention. He tossed his
mask aside, keeping it as habit. The voices, people lot of people. It made him
wonder and walk to it. He soon hit a larger road, filled with people all
dressed like they were straight out of an fantasy fair. Guards, stood proud
with swords and chainmail. “What are you…” A little child asked, pulled on
Donovan’s arm. The parents turned around and gasped at the sight. Yes a yellow
hazmat suit with a M16 and large backpack was rather noticeable in the midst of
a mediaeval town. A guard appeared behind him “Come with me” he said “You have
questions to answer.” Well at least they spoke modern English. But how? “no” he
turned around grabbing his weapon with both his hands. “I will not” The guard
gripped his sword. “I only ask one more time.” Donovan, not wishing to kill
another human today, pointed his gun in the air and fired a salvo. Everyone ran
and the guard stumbled back. “Magic! Fire stick!” he shouted. He raised his
sword and Donovan made sure that he had space between him and the soldier. He
walked to the middle of the round and was soon surrounded by guards. “Stay
back!” he yelled at the guards, swirling his gun around. He hoped that his M16
could penetrate the chainmail.

A growl
broke the silence. It came from a horse pulled carriage further down the road.
“But Sir” one of the guards, called back. “He…” Another growl erupted, it was
more refined, it sounded like Xiandria speaking. “Our king wishes to speak to
you.” The guard said, gritting it’s teeth. “Alone and wishes no harm to come to
you.”