Chapter 4

"Morning, Drake," a nurse said as she approached him, placing a newspaper on the floor next to him, and a small breakfast, "You've been out for hours, and you still look shattered."

"Thanks, Sierra," he said to the twenty three year old skunk before him, even though she looked a little concerned, "Something wrong?"

Sierra eyed him over, uncertain, and slightly worried, but just shook her head and went outside.

Drake sighed and picked up the newspaper, flicking through the pages trying to find something interesting, which didn't take him to long, because on the ninth page, in large letters read; "Dragoness Attacked In Dreams".

"Fifthteen year old Roza Driftwood was attacked via spirits on the last day of the War, in the land of her own imagination. We have been unable to confront the victim on this subject, due to what could be fatal damage. Miss Driftwood is now healing slowly in the village clinic."

"Hurt – by dreams?" Drake said slowly as he carefully read over the article, "That is impossible."

"No, it isn't," a feminine voice whispered, and it only took one guess to know who it was talking. He glanced over at her black body, destroyed, bruised, burnt. Her face lay calm, as she stared up at the murky ceiling above, not even once trying to look at him. He sighed, even though he was worried, how could something of happened to her, in her dreams? She had come out a complete state, due to something which had physically been impossible, until now.

"How did it happen?" he asked, placing the newspaper to one side, and lifting a bowl full of foul smelling green liquid, also known as 'breakfast'.

"That isn't any of your business," she stated rudely, "You of all dragons would be the last I'd tell."

Drake took to his feet, and walked over to her bed, and stared down at her, scowling, "Why do you always have to be so negative?"

Roza stared hard at the muscular dragon, looking over him in a nervous fashion. She closed her eyes and half buried her head in the pillow beneath her; half of her face was still visible.

The dragon investigated her face; it was full of anger, hatred, and frustration. Her claws were pressed sharply against her scales, as if like clenched fists, and her shoulders were pressed tight against her body. He knew she was uncomfortable with him watching over her so closely, and turned away, and slowly made his way to the door, pulling back the tattered curtain, and sitting down outside, just to it's right.

It was evening when a quiet voice approached him, and the curtains old material danced as it was pulled back on the railing, and a dark body stepped out, as delicately formed as the Moon itself, as it slowly came into view. The faint scent of flowers wafted along in the breeze, making the air smell fresh, and natural. The crickets chirped in unison as her voice, high and sorrowful, sounded in the darkness.

"Drake…" it said softly, as a hand was placed on his slouched shoulders, claws pressing gently against his hard scales, sharing a small amount of warmth, "You cannot tell anyone what I'm about to say."

His eyes focused on the ground in front of him as he half listened to the kind voice he was hearing; he simply replied, "I won't tell a soul."

The dragoness drew back her hand, and sat down beside him, her grey scales glowing silver in the now full moon. Her eyes shown like a meadow of green, flowers upon flowers stretching for miles, as if the Suns rays were shining down on them.

"You collapsed that night, from your injuries," she began, "I stood within a close radius of five or ten meters, giving you peace. That was when I realised someone was there, but with my eyes open, I couldn't hear nor see him, so I closed my eyes, and he appeared."

She paused for a few moments, "That was when he attacked, ripping through my body without pain, and then I awoke in the hospital, being accused by your girlfriend…"

Drake ignored the last few words, "Was the spirit on the orcs side?

"Indeed he was, and apparently," she paused, "their leader wants me."

The dragon froze, "Why you?"

Roza stood up, and looked down at Drake, "I don't know, but I feel I must go."

"You can't!" Drake immediately protested.

"I can, and I must," she said softly, "For the safety of the village."

"Then I'm going with you," he said sternly, "I can't let you go alone, it's dangerous out there."

Feeling the hatred begin to rise, she turned to leave, and said, "We leave at dawns break."