Chapter 3

Drake groaned as pain surged up his leg, thoughts of the battle coming to mind. He opened his eyes, having to crack dried blood in his attempt. He sat up in a large straw bed, with a large pillow, coated with blood beneath him. His leg was bandaged, and throbbed wildly whenever he tried to move it, even just a little.

He was in a wooden room, very large both in length and width. There was a tattered curtain hanging over the door, and several more over the windows, which were no more than just a simple whole cut out of the wood. He noticed one other was in the room with him, with a battered body. He froze as his eyes slowly made out the delicate form of a female beneath the damage. He rose from the bed, limping slightly, but trying not to put any weight on to his injured leg. It felt as if he was taking an eternity to get there, but eventually he felt his feet brush against the straw bed, he was there.

His breath caught in his throat as he noticed how badly this one had been beaten. Bruises covered her body from head to toe, and her scales had been stained black, and several places red from the dried blood which covered her. He hesitated for a moment, and lifted his front leg, stretched one claw forward, to the side of the females face, and gently pulled away a small amount of dirt from her face, and saw the grey scales he of all dragons would clearly recognise, it was Roza. Guilt panged against his heart, as he gently sat down beside her bed, that one claw still pressed gently against her face. He didn't know what had happened to get her into such a bad state, but he knew that it wouldn't have happened if she hadn't of helped him. He slid his claw down her face, making not to catch her eye on the sharp tip, and gently used it to lift her chin. Her face was calm, and peaceful. As if beneath it didn't lie a painful tale that only she could know. He with drew his hand and lowered his head, taking his eyes off of the dragoness.

Taking to his feet once more, he limped across the room to the door, and gently pulled back the curtain, opposite Rozas' bed. He looked out, at the bright sky, it must be around noon. He saw many of the younger dragons running around merrily, and playing games, free from the wrath of the dark side for yet another day. He smiled to himself, glad to see that his injuries meant safety, and kept harm away from the young ones.

"Drake, you're alright!" someone called out to him. He turned to his right to see a green dragoness bounding towards him.

"Hey Kaida," he said, slightly startled.

"I can't believe this, it's like a miracle," she said softly, placing her head against his neck, "I've been so worried about you."

"Worried?" he said confused, "why?"

He looked down at the dragoness resting against him. She had recently turned fifthteen years old. She was a smaller dragon than most, and belonged to a rare race known as the Wind Weavers. Her scales were a soft green, and she had delicate wings, like a butterfly, and around her neck hung a small heart shaped locket, which Drake had given her.

Kaida gently closed her pink eyes, and spoke quietly, "Do you have any idea how bad your injuries were the night you were found?"

"No, I don't," he replied.

"That night, everyone one was certain that your funeral would be in no less than a week," she said, trying to hold back tears.

Drake put his front leg around her neck and held her close, and simply said; "I'm sorry, for putting you through this."

"It's not your fault," she said, burying her head against his chest, "It's the orcs."

"I'm going to go lie down for a bit," Drake said after a few minutes.

"Okay, I'll come see you later," Kaida replied, then turned around and left.

The ice blue dragon stood there for a few minutes longer, before going back indoors. He sank against the wall, thinking things through. His life, he was devoted of taking care of the village now, it wasn't as if he had a choice. Once you reached sixteen that was it; your life was practically decided for you. There was only one dragon in the village who kept him going, who made him want to strive further, to work harder; and that was Kaida.

He shook his head, trying to get these thoughts of not having control over his life out of his mind. He had plenty of control, it was the orcs who kept him from doing what he went, not anyone else. He decided right there and then, that he would destroy the orcs, himself.

Drake eased himself away from the wall, his back ached, and he could clearly see it was after nightfall. He took his time, slowly coming back into reality, but was more or less startled, when he opened his eyes to see two squabbling dragonesses in front of him.

"Why else would you have gone out there? Stop hiding things from me!" Kaida yelled loudly, tears of fury streaming down her face.

"I'm not hiding anything," Roza said weakly, who was now supported by several pillows, "I don't even like him."

The green scaled dragoness saw Drake awake, and immediately came to his side, and leaned him towards him, and said, "What is it with her?"

"Calm down, Kaida," he said softly, "To be honest, I think it's time you left."

She opened her mouth to protest, but Drake held up a hand, and sternly said, "Now."

The short dragoness left, growling as she did so, and Drake pulled the tattered curtain across the door.

He limped slowly to Rozas' bedside, and sat down on the floor beside her, "Are you alright?"

Roza eyed him over lazily, just wishing to be left alone, "I'm fine."

"You don't need to lie to me," Drake replied, looking into her emerald hued eyes, which were slightly murky, hiding her past life, her life before the village. He could still remember that day ever so clearly, where she was carried, unconscious to the village by one of the Elders. No one knew about her past life, what had happened during the incident, and why she wouldn't tell a soul. She kept everything well hidden, and bottled up inside, apart from one thing, her hatred for others.

"Leave me alone," she groaned, when she noticed he wasn't buying it, "I don't want to speak to you."

Knowing that she was unable to move because of the injuries, Drake sighed, and made his way across the room to his own bed.