Chapter 3: The Magic Dimension

The Magic Dimension, The Valley of Avalar; November 16, 7:97 C.D.

Grass. Plenty of it. All brushing against his skin.

Trent opened his eyes. He was lying on the grass in a forest. Then he remembered last night. The abduction. Grohg Ze Mezeri. Flying into a black hole...

Trent shook his head in disbelief. It all must have been a dream. A cruel, sick dream. There was no way he could have flown straight into a black hole and still survive, let alone wind up in a forest. It just wasn't possible.

Maybe it was something he ate for breakfast... What was it? A dried biscuit with dried gravy and sour milk? A rotten apple? Heck, for all he knew, he could have been drinking a booj. And that was against Navy protocol...

"Are you lost?"

"Ah!" cried Trent, nearly having a heart attack in the process. Then he saw who was standing in front of him.

What appeared to be a mole in a waistcoat and pants stood before him. It had on spectacles, and a pocket watch dangled from its pocket. Its briches were way too tight, Trent could tell by the way the button was about to explode. A mole-sized cane completed the outfit, giving a perfect representation of someone old.

Trent looked up at the mole with a confused look. He peered at the mole and attempted to pet him on the back. "Look at you! Never in my life have I ever seen something as adorable as you. Who dressed you up, little fellow?"

The mole rolled his eyes and smacked Trent's outstretched hand away with his cane. "First of all, I am not cute. I am not adorable. I am not a pet!"
Trent attempted to crawl his way back a few paces, but to no prevail.

"Y-y-you just talked!" Exclaimed Trent in bewilderment.

"Of course I just talked, you idiot! What do I look like, a mole?" Growled the mole in anger. "Don't answer that question."

"W-well, how are you talking? I mean, not to sound rude, but I'm pretty sure moles aren't supposed to talk. What happened? Did the scientists put a voice analyzer or something on you?" Asked Trent in wonder.

"Sie-in-tests? What is a sie-in-test?" Questioned the mole.

"You mean you've never heard of a scientist? They're the guys who discovered the laws of physics. Space travel. They discovered the cell..." explained Trent.

"Oh, you mean the High Ancestors?" Asked the mole.

Trent widened his eyes in wonderment. "The High Ancestors? What's that?"

"Oh, my g-" sighed the mole, clearly annoyed by his lack of knowledge. "You mean to say that you've never even heard of Clerus? Hielvile? Not even Apparatus? Wow. I thought all dragons knew who the First Born were..."

"Wait, what do you mean... dragons? Those don't even exist."

The mole widened his eyes and stepped back from him. He shook his head. "That's it; I'm talking to a lunatic. Better get away from him, Walter."

"What do you mean, er- Walter?" Asked Trent with concern in his eyes. "Are you seriously suggesting that dragons exist?"

"Suggesting? Suggesting? Son of a -" growled Walter as he smacked his forehead and looked at Trent in annoyance. "And I thought Rodney was the stupidest dragon..."

"Oh, will you shut it about dragons already?" Shrieked Trent. Then he stopped. "Wait... what do you mean stupidest dragon?"

Trent looked across the grass and stopped. A puddle had formed right next to him from what appeared to be rain.

"Feed you to the grublins, I should..." Sighed Walter as he spat at the ground.

But Trent wasn't listening. He was too busy staring at the puddle. Or rather, what was IN the puddle.

Walter noticed the frightened look on Trent's face. "You OK? Scared by your own reflection? Wow..."

"No-no-n-no-n-no! No! This can't be happening!" Cried Trent as he tried to stand up and back away from the puddle, but to no prevail. It was as if his legs were asleep. He felt for his legs, but instead felt dirt clinging to his feet.

Trent looked down at himself and gasped in fright. The reflection was right.

"Oh, what are you going on about now, dragon?" Asked Walter.

"I-I-I'm a d-d-dragon! H-how?" Asked Trent. His reflection was right. Instead of having skin on his body, he had camoflauge-patterned scales. Each was a dark shade of green and brown.

He no longer had five toes and two legs, but rather three claws and four legs. Dirt was clinging to what he now realized were his claws.

Frightened and mentally disturbed, Trent threw himself around in the grass, trying so ever hard to stand up. He needed to wake himself from this nightmare. This had to have been a dream. It had to!

But all Trent accomplished was making a huge amount of dirt get all over himself and the grass.

"Need some help?" Asked Walter as he held out his right paw, his other paw clutching his cane. "You look as if you saw a monster."

Trent nodded fiercely, sweat and panic filling his face. Slowly, Trent held out his right paw, claws outstretched.

Come on... Just grab his paw! Grab it! Trent's mind screamed.

Reluctantly, his paw intertwined with Walter's, its claws wrapping fiercely around Walter's fingers.

With great force, Walter pulled him up off the ground. Trent pressed his back paws into the ground and forced himself up, letting go of Walter's paw.

He nearly collapsed again.

"Woah!" Cried Walter as he grabbed ahold of Trent's paw again and stopped him from falling on his butt in embarrassment. "What's the matter? Can't walk?"

"No," groaned Trent as he forced himself back up, "I'm not used to walking on four legs; that's all."

Disturbed, Walter ignored that last statement. "You'll get used to it."

"That's easy for you to say," said Trent as he looked at Walter with his now dragon-like eyes, "You have two legs."

Walter looked down at his own legs and back up, his face blushing. "Well, that's different. Go ahead and try to move around."

Trent rolled his eyes. "Fine." He let go of Walter's paw and dug his own claws into the ground. Slowly, he took one step. Then another. Right paw, left paw. Hind, right paw. Hind, left paw. Oh, this is so confusing!

For another minute, Trent walked across the grass, walking around Walter in a circle. This still was going to need some getting used to, but it was getting somewhat easier.

Trent looked behind himself past his swinging, bronze tail spike. He looked at Walter with hope.

"You got it?" Asked Walter.

"Yeah..." Responded Trent as he looked at his front paws again and dug his claws into the ground.

"Good. Would you like to come with me back to Warfang? I think you might need to go get checked," said Walter with concern in his eyes.

"Warfang? What's that?" Asked Trent as he walked over to Walter.

"Warfang. The Dragon City. Us moles built it long ago as the capital empire for the entire Magic Dimension. Dragons go there day in, day out. You want to come?" Asked Walter. "I was just on my way there now. It's a few miles down the river."

"Uh... sure," replied Trent.

"Then follow me. And whatever you do, don't talk to anyone. Especially not the cheetahs," ordered Walter as he turned around and walked off down the beautiful, ever-flowing river.

Cheetahs? They got those here, too?Trent thought. But he followed the mole anyway.