I couldn't think of a better title, in the short time span I was given. It's about Nils' past, anyway, and I hope you like it.

Healing Melody

Nils had never been like the rest of his family. He watched his mother and sister's whirling ribbon dances with contempt, wondering why they wasted so much time on such useless, time-consuming activities. He had been forced to learn the flute in his early decades, but had later told his parents of his wish to end his lessons. Now, the instrument lay gathering dust on one of the corners in their cave.

To him, hunting was the only thing worth his time and energy. He enjoyed the thrill of chasing down the mountain lions and the eagles, killing them off with a single bite or singe of flame, and taking his catch home to eat with the rest of his family, both his sister and mother too bothered with their useless pastimes to hunt much. At least he was doing something useful. Without a father, the job of hunting was all left to him.

They wouldn't even be alive if not for my hunting!

It was just too bad that he had inherited the legacy of a long line of artists and musicians. Nils hated playing anything on his flute. Music was nothing but a combination of sounds that formed something that made sense, wasn't it? He saw no meaning in it at all. He didn't understand why so many were moved to tears by music.

"Now, Nils, you know what good it does," his mother nagged as he refused the offer of taking up lessons once more. "You can heal others when they are injured. You can renew their energy, and they'll thank you for it! Why won't you ever understand?"

The frustration behind her gaze wasn't just for the fact that he would never know the benefits of becoming a musician. She was angry, angry with herself for bearing a child who would not continue the tradition of their family. In her human form, she was a lot less intimidating, but her words sounded harsher on his ears.

"No, Mother! I don't want to learn to play that stupid instrument!" he growled back, voice bearing some resemblance to his dragon voice.

"Well, you'll wish you could refresh others by playing the flute in future," she replied, turning away in disgust. "You're still too young to understand. Well, you take that instrument with you wherever you go, anyway. I don't ever want to see you without it."

Did she think that tethering him to the object he hated would change his mind? That was the stupidest idea he had ever heard before. But just for the sake of proving that nothing could change his mind, out of sheer defiance, he walked over to the place among the animal bones where he had last left his flute.

A moment of digging uncovered the object—it was a thin hollowed bamboo with holes along its side, the mouthpiece covered with a curved bone. There were paintings all along its length, names of the item's owners carved in the ancient language of the dragons.

"When you've mastered it, your name will go there as well," his mother had kept saying when he had been learning, and he had taken all those comments as praise, as something to look forward to. Such stupidity.

At least there was somewhere he could go, where he didn't have his mother to tell him everything to do—the sky.

Nils stood at the entrance to their cave and allowed his energy to rush through his skin, change his form as he did everyday. He felt two powerful wings unfurl on his back, as his body lengthened into the strong form of a dragon, his nails growing into claws.

Then, as the wind picked up once again around him, he spread his wings and leapt off the grey, snow-covered cliff, into the air. He heard the calls of his fellow ice dragon friends as they circled the deep forests ahead, and he beat his wings powerfully, eager to join them, ready for another day of hunting beneath the shadows.

"So how's life?" his best friend, Ri, exclaimed as Nils flew to join them over the thick wooded area.

"Uh…nothing much…usual mother and sister," he said. "I've gotta hunt for all of them."

Down below, deep in the leaf litter of the forest, they heard the rustle of footsteps. Prey. Something large. All five of them dove at the same instant, and they circled in a frenzied freefall, towards the point between the trees where they had heard the creature pass through the crackling leaves.

Wild joy swept through his body as they passed through the high canopy, closing in on their doomed prey. All were quite small, being dragonlings still, and from the sounds of it, this creature was at least as large as one of them, and impossible to fight down alone—a stag, perhaps, or a mountain lion in hiding?

Then their joy died, all at once.

The creature waiting below them with its wide gaping jaws was no stag. It was enormous, heavy-set jaws bearing two rows of fangs, tongue curling around in obvious hunger as a reverberating, grating snarl rose from its throat—a dark dragon.

They turned a little late. The dragon had already heard their approach, and it snapped up, leaping in a frenzy of crazed hunger—the killer now, the predator. All at once, the five ice dragons had been turned into prey, victims.

All five fled, through the canopy, through the thick, light-enclosing leaves, into the sunlight beyond. The image of mountains beyond gave them no solace. They flew on towards the maze of peaks, hoping that their familiarity with them would save them from their chaser.

One of his companions' grievous roars was cut off as the dark creature rose on its wings and caught hold of his neck, shaking him till he was dead. Nils turned away, trying to cast the deathly image out of his vision. Launce. He didn't want to see more.

Another called out in terror, and his head helplessly jerked backwards in mid-flight; the sound was so painful, unbearably so. He saw another of the group go—Gael. Launce's body was already on the creature's back, stilled in death. Three left.

The mountains drew close. Then without warning, the sky broke. Rain tore from the heavens upon their wings as they beat them strenuously against the force of wind and lashing water, against fear and danger, towards the safety of the peaks, their home.

The beast that gave chase wasn't deterred by the rain. Its wingbeats stayed powerful and deadly, advancing on the weakening trio with terrible speed.

"NILS! DOWN!"

Ri's desperate yell to Nils and Munin caught both dragons with shock. Nils followed the instruction and dove in the air, straight through the rain, following its course for a few seconds, and all he could see in those moments was the growing grey, rain-pounded valley below, as he hurtled through sky and water, wind rushing past them, into the place that might save them from the dark creature following above.

The ground was coming. Drag! Drag! He followed his subconscious commands, spread his wings wide to catch the air before his head met headfirst with the jagged stones lining the valley. He heard yells of terror and pain around him, screeches, calls so unworldly, but he ignored them all.

His feet touched wet rock, and he turned to the sky. The dark dragon loomed overhead, circling in the clouds, moments before it turned back, giving up.

Nils smiled. "We did it—" His voice faded instantly. He turned and saw Munin, neck bent over Ri, whose body was crumpled on the valley floor a few yards away, returned to his human form.

Shocked, battered both physically and mentally, he crept over. No, no…

Ri was breathing. Breathing, and bleeding, blood gushing from his ripped stomach to mix with the pooling rain. The splash of water around Nils only showed what he felt inside himself. His best friend. He had never thought that he would have to see anything like this.

"We need to get him to a healer," Munin suggested quickly, turning from Ri to Nils.

"Leave me…the thing will be back when the rain stops," the injured dragon moaned. "It was starving. Leave me, save yourselves. I can't move."

Nils leapt up in anger. "No! We won't abandon our friend, Ri," he replied earnestly. "You must get back. It's only bleeding. You can move, I'm sure…"

He closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. Nils turned back into his human form as well, and knelt beside the bleeding dragon, wishing for a way to help him…

The dragon-boy reached for his flute, shaky with fear. He lifted it slowly to his lips, drew back some memory of how he had once played the tunes so joyfully on it, as a child. The notes came instantly, and the songs came forth—simple, too simple. And he suddenly realised that music—music wasn't just noise. It meant something, infinite truth, so much he had missed before…

Ri took in a deep breath and sighed, struggled to move a little. He was strengthening visibly, and Nils' heart leapt that his playing was doing something. A lot.

Then he could stand. Ri was still injured, but he could move, enough to take them to the nearest village to be healed. Suddenly, Nils was grateful for something he had hated so long—it was such a strange feeling…

"Mother…I'll continue to learn."

Nils' mother turned in shock, inspected the flute in his hand, and looked back at his face.

"I want to learn the flute," he repeated, in case she had not believed it the first time. It had saved his best friend. Why should he continue to hate it? There was no reason.

His mother looked overjoyed. Her mouth curved into a bright smile. "Why the change?" she exclaimed joyfully.

Nils smiled back. "I realised why you learn it," he answered. "The arts. It's to help others, isn't it? It heals, it strengthens…it's really amazing."

She looked impressed by his words. "So when do you want to continue?" his mother inquired.

"How about…now?"

Rushed ending. Was in a hurry. Pesky sister. By the way, Munin is the name of a new monster in MapleStory.