A formless lump of clay sat on the stand in front of her. Numerous dragon sculptures sat in many places in the Dragons Den, all there to provide inspiration, Aspen guessed. Tools of all sorts, tools to shape clay, to smooth it, to draw on it, and tools she could not identify all sat arranged neatly on either side of the mound of clay. She would have guidance, Liz had assured her. In fact, Liz stood to Aspen's right. No one else was in the room with them.
At once the whole situation felt natural and unbelievable. The latter made complete sense, yet Aspen could not help but think she was meant to be here, working with clay for the first time in a long time, to make a dragon in the image of those made by Liz as best as she could. No one would believe her if she told them how today went. She could hardly believe it, and she was living it.
"Break off a piece you think is suitable for either the head or body, whichever you feel like working on first. Don't worry about being precise. Let your heart guide your hands, as you might with any piece of art," said Liz in a calm voice.
"It's been a long time since I've worked with clay," Aspen said. "That was back in school, doing simple stuff. Nothing like this."
"It's not as hard as you think. You just have to believe. Think of a dragon in your mind, and let it guide you. You may draw inspiration from those around you, that's why they're here, but don't fixate on copying one of them."
The clay lump felt cool and moist in her hands, and she tore a chunk off. Heads looked more complicated than bodies, but bodies had limbs. Still, she could work on the core first and add limbs after, so she elected to start with the body.
Taking a deep breath, Aspen looked around at the myriad of dragons decorating the room. All had the same basic shape, characteristic of being made by the same hands. Her dragon would end up looking a bit like them, at the very least because of the sheer amount of imagery at hand. No dragon conjured in her mind will be as vivid and real as the ones surrounding her.
"Do I start with my hands, or with a tool or something?" Aspen asked.
"For the rough shape, start with your hands. The tools are for refining later on."
For a moment, Aspen closed her eyes and took a deep breath to collect her thoughts. As she did, a dragon appeared in her mind, similar to Liz's sculptures, but more beautiful. Aspen's eyes flew open. How can I imagine something more beautiful than her sculptures? All of these dragons are wonderful and beautifully crafted.
Even though her eyes were again trained on the clay in her hand, the dragon in her mind would not fade. Slender, fin-like wings, Narrow head and body, slightly more serpentine than Gretel and the rest, a large tail scale, and deep sky blue scales. Its shape was feminine, though how she guessed that she did not know.
Oh, to be able to draw the dragon so that Liz could recreate it. But she was not the greatest illustrator or artist in general. Nothing she could do, on paper or with clay, would do the image justice.
"Do you have an image in mind?" Liz asked.
Aspen startled. "Oh goodness."
"Sorry. Should've let you focus. But you do have an idea, yes?"
"Yes, actually. It just came to my mind the moment I closed my eyes, I can still see it. But there's no way I can recreate it exactly."
"Yes, there is. You have to believe in yourself. We all start somewhere, and this is your start."
Liz's hand settled on her shoulder. Aspen took a deep breath and began shaping the lump into a very rough approximation of the body she saw in her imagination. As she worked she realized the form was longer and slimmer than that of the dragons around her, much like the image. It was very plain, and not recognizable as a dragon's body, but it was a start. Hopefully.
"How does this look?" Aspen asked after a moment.
"A good start."
"It's more slender than your sculptures. Is that a problem?"
"No, not at all. This is what you imagined, right?"
She nodded.
"Then there is no problem at all. If this is the shape you imagined, and you are satisfied with it, then move on to the head or the limbs. Finer details can come later."
Gingerly setting the body down, Aspen tore another chunk of clay from the original mass. This one was smaller.
"What should I do with the head? Another rough shape? The head had a lot more detail and contour to it."
"Another rough shape. Make sure you put just enough detail to identify where shapes like the eyes and nostrils will go. Try not to go as plain as you did with the body. You still have a long way to go there."
She worked on the head for a longer time, though at times her hands would inadvertently flatten or smudge details and shapes she already sculpted. After the fifth time, she grew frustrated. As small as the head was, it was so easy to erase her progress.
"Is there a way to hold the head better while working?" she finally asked, setting down the half-formed lump.
"Form the neck and hold on to that." Liz leaned forward and grabbed a small piece of clay. "Wet the end and attach it to the head. Then proceed."
Aspen did as she was told but she was beginning to feel like this whole thing was pointless. If she was lucky, this grey clay might resemble something akin to a dragon.
Having a neck shape, even if rough, certainly helped, but she still struggled with the head. As she worked, Liz grabbed another dragon and set it on a shelf in front of her. Taking a break, Aspen looked at the newcomer.
Unlike most of Liz's dragons, this one had silvery-blue scales. Each scale had a completely different shape than found on the others. One paw held a tiny clay toolbox.
"This one is our previous tenant's effort. Like you, he had very little artistic ability, and yet his dragon turned out well," said Liz in a gentle voice. Her finger pointed to another dragon in the room, one with abnormally large paws. "That one was made by Lucy several years ago. She hasn't gotten into dragon sculpting the way I have and yet even while so young, she made a wonderful dragon. The large paws were on purpose, sized to 'hold' your fingers."
Both dragons differed from the rest yet were recognizable. Her current lumps of clay did not compare.
"I'm not sure I can do that well," Aspen said, dejected.
"Close your eyes, and let your heart guide your hands. This is how our tenant made his dragon. Perhaps it will work with you."
That sounded very far-fetched, but Aspen held her tongue. The dragon in her mind began to move about, sometimes walking on two legs and sometimes on four. Its head remained facing her, tilting and turning to show off different angles but with eyes never leaving her.
She did not know if she was still making mistakes like before or not, but perhaps that was the point in closing her eyes: not knowing if she was messing up anything. Ignorance is bliss or something like that.
But for all she knew, her hands could have been forming a dog head or something not very dragon-like. How the tenant had succeeded was beyond her. Her poor dragon, so detailed in her mind, would never live up to that same glory, and despite the clay dragons being no more than inanimate objects, that idea actually made her sad.
After some time, she began to hear a tune being hummed, a song she did not recognize. Unless someone else had entered the room discreetly, the tune had to have come from Liz. It was a pleasant song, a melody with a calming effect and Aspen felt her worries fade a little.
Almost by instinct, she began to attach the head and neck to the rest of the body and began with individual limbs. Eyes still closed, her hands molded and smoothed and shaped pieces of clay into what she hoped were recognizable features. A tail, legs, arms, and wings that looked as much like a fish fin as they did a dragon wing. The wings she made folded, as the one in her mind rarely stretched them.
The image in her mind posed and danced around as she worked, showing off the limb that she was working on with the clay. It was her imagination, she knew, helping her. It made sense, but it did give the dragon in her mind a lifelike, sentient quality. The voice in her mind very nearly spoke to the image like one would their cat or dog. The silliness of the idea stopped her, even though no one would have known.
Bits of clay were left over, so Aspen shaped them into a broad triangular scale for the tail, and a few of the pieces became webbed horns around where she imagined a dragon's ears would be. When there was no more clay left on the table, Aspen opened her eyes.
The humming stopped, though she sensed a different feeling, one from the room itself, for Aspen could identify no other source.
"Wow, how'd I make that?" Aspen asked in wonder.
Though grey and lacking the finer details, the dragon standing on the table looked very much like the one in her mind. It leaned forward, ready to strut around on four legs or, Aspen was slowly realizing, ready to slip into the water for a swim.
"You have more talent than you think, You just have to let it out," Liz said, grabbing a sharp-pointed stick. "From here on out, I'll help guide you through the rest of the steps."
For the rest of the evening, Liz aided Aspen through the rest of the dragon-making process, but said little throughout. Most of the time she hummed the same tune as before. Aspen carved lots of fish scales all across the body, angular eyes, and slender nostrils. Other tools helped define the paws and horns. All ended up matching the dragon in her mind. When all of the natural light had disappeared behind the sunset, the dragon was finished.
The mass of clay looked so much better than Aspen hoped, and she knew deep in her heart that this was the dragon for her. Not only because of the looks but because she had a hand in making it. More than a hand, actually.
"What a wonderful dragon. It's going to take a couple of days to kiln and glaze. What color were her scales?"
"Her?" Aspen asked.
"Yes. What color?"
I thought it had a feminine look to it in my mind. "Blue like the sky, but deeper."
"Hmm… Very well. Why don't you go back downstairs and get comfortable for the night? I'll send Lucy down to gather some pillows and blankets once I finish up here."
"Okay."
Rising to her feet, Aspen suddenly felt very fatigued. It had been a long day. She mumbled good night, both to Liz and the dragon, as she left.
"She made this?" Zanna asked.
Liz nodded.
Zanna glanced around at the other dragons, none of which looked anything like this one. "What kind is it? Is it going to be special?"
Liz's eyes flashed violet for a moment. "If I had to guess, she made an approximation of a water dragon, though there are some differences. I've only heard of water dragons, never seen one or made one myself."
Upon hearing Liz's words, Zanna made the connection immediately. The serpentine shape fits the idea perfectly.
"As to whether or not it will be special, that's up to Aspen. I did not and will not intervene. It's best if it isn't, but if she has that ability, this dragon will show it."
"And if it is?"
Liz did not speak for several moments. "It won't be the first time I gifted a special dragon to someone who doesn't know."
"But in those cases, the people were normal. Aspen isn't."
"No. I hummed the Song of Guinevere while she worked. She was getting frustrated and the song did calm her a little. Helped her focus and shape the clay."
'So in some way, she has dragons in her soul," Zanna concluded.
"Yes. Much like you and Alexa."
"And you and Lucy."
Liz nodded. "Whether or not she is more like Gwendolen or Guinevere, we may never know."
The dragons in the room began to stir now that the visitor was no longer in the room. Zanna spotted Gretel flying towards the stand, while the others kept their distance. The potions dragon wore a band of flowers on her wrist. Many silent hrrrs filled the room.
"If the dragon ends up being special," Zanna said, running her fingers down Gretel's spine. "How are you going to make sure Aspen takes proper care of it? David unknowingly let Gadzooks shed his tear, but without you and the others Gadzooks would've never recovered."
What Liz said in response was not unexpected, but did not allay Zanna's fear. "David was confused about the dragons then. Aspen has accepted everything thus far despite knowing nothing. We'll have to hope that's enough. It's been enough for the others that have left the house."
"And if the Fain or Gwilanna or someone else finds them?"
"Again, we'll have to hope. Aspen and this dragon won't be a large target for anyone."
She watched Liz gently lift the dragon. "But enough of these heavy talks for the night. All this might be for naught. Could you go and make sure Lucy did as she was told? She was supposed to get some blankets and pillows but I haven't heard any movement yet."
"Of course."
