5

The black scales glinted in the light as a shadow cast over the ground where the men stood. Great wings beated in a slow, steady pulse until the creature finally set down on the ground. John's breath had caught in his throat, he was held in her gaze. The doctor had never seen an animal so beautiful and the look see gave him was brimming with her vast intellect. He suddenly felt that he wasn't by himself in his mind then a clear female voice spoke,

'Hello, John Watson, I'm glad to see you are wake. My name is Morrisa but I suspect you already knew that' John nodded shakily, unable to comprehend if he should answer and how he should answer. He heard a chuckle behind him and the elf walked past and wrapped his hands round the dragons nose, pressing their foreheads together. There was a deep rumbling sound which was joined by a pearly laugh. It took a moment for the human to realise that the strange creatures in front of him were sharing a conversation he couldn't hear. The two turned their attentions on John.

'You can come closer, she'd not going to harm you. In fact, she has rather taken a shine to you.' The human made his way to the strange creatures. He laid a hand on the hard scales and was suddenly lifted into a previously unseen saddle.

His confusion was met with Sherlock's smooth voice,

'Don't worry, I've strapped your legs so you won't fall. Enjoy this, Morrisa has never asked me if she can let someone else ride her before.' Then he felt the presence in his mind again, this time it felt nice.

Are you ready? John didn't know how to speak with his mind. He decided to try thinking what he wanted to say, that seemed to work.

Not in the slightest, lets go. The rumbling laugh filled the clearing again as the wings unfolded and began to beat slowly, lifting them off the ground. As the earth pulled away from them, John steeled himself and looked down to see Sherlock who caught his gaze, a look overflowing with pride, and gave a small wave.

So, John, how do you like the air? John smiled.

This is amazing. It's so beautiful, peaceful. Morrisa banked left, giving a show of the forest below. From this height, John could really appreciate how large the forest actually was, he could barely see the edges of the tree line and the only thing that gave away the existence of the humans outside the forest was the faint wisps of smoke that rose into the air. John's stomach clenched. His town didn't light fires at this time in the day.

Morrisa, get to that human town. I need to see it. The dragon seemed to feel his anxiety as she sped twofold towards the settlement. When they got just close enough, John froze. The town was no longer standing, smoke billowed from the ruined remains of the houses. Bodies scattered the ground and cloaked figures darted from ruin to ruin, searching for survives. The doctor cried out as the dragon turned back and flew to the clearing.

There's nothing we could have done, John. She soothed. The human knew this to be true also, but the over whelming sense of guilt weighed his heart. He had stopped sobbing, tears wouldn't solve anything. Sherlock knew exactly what had happened, John realised that the dragon must have told him while they were on the way back. The human closed his eyes and willed the world away, he didn't fight when the elf lifted him out of the saddle and he tried to take a shake step but is legs fell from underneath him. The tall male lifted him and easily carried him back to the treehouse.

When the human came back to his senses, he was alone in the familiar room. Next to the bed, he saw a bowl filled with water and a towel next to it. He subconscious smiled and washed himself. On the end of the bed, he found a set of clothes. They were the same type that the elf wore, John decided that it must be the way all elves dress and he changed quickly. The clothes fit perfectly, as if he ad been measured for them. The long sleeved tunic was a light tan colour while the trousers were the same dark brown as the tree bark. John walked down the steps to find the elf waiting at the bottom for him.

'I had wondered if you had awoken, I know humans tend to move a lot in their sleep.' John nodded, he noticed that there the shadows moved ever so slightly.

'You said you were one of fifty three elves, so why are the rest avoiding me?' Sherlock looked a little disheartened by the question.

'They don't trust you. They are incredibly annoyed with me for saving you. They would never say it to my face, because in the social chain I am the highest power, but they wished you had died. Then they would have one less human to deal with. They can't really be blamed, elves have long memories. When your kind first came into Alagalësia, we got on well, but when the dark king drove us to live in the forests, mercilessly slaughtering our kind the way you do animals. We have had no contact with humans for at least 50 years now.' A question wormed it's way into the short males mind and wouldn't go away. In the end he asked it, if only to get some peace,

'How old are you?' Sherlock coughed slightly.

'Well, elves live longer than humans.' John gestured for him to continue, 'I am 74 this year.' John blinked. 74? The number was almost beyond his grasp. The elf looked at his new found friend,

'Well, John Watson, I can safely say I have never met anyone quite like you. I would have expected you to be scared or angry with my kind, with me, for the pure hatred. You seem un-phased by the fact that the vast majority of my kind wishes you dead. How ever, you are slightly unnerved by our difference in age.' John blushed,

'I have lived with humans long enough to know that we are fickle, easy to anger over nothing, often let ourselves become possessed with a hatred of something to the point were we want to destroy everything it ever owned. We live in fear of the dark king, the same one which had just burned the only home I have ever know to the ground. Yes, I can see how your kind must hate us. I was just a little surprised by your age, I mean, you look younger than my but you are over twice my age.' John was suddenly aware of another presence close by, he turned to see another elf approaching. This one held the air of authority in this hands and seemed to be able to play it to what ever tune he wished.

'Sherlock,' Even his voice sound commanding, 'I would appreciate it if you would be so kind to bring your…friend with me to the hall.' Without another word, the figure turned and left.

'Who was that?' John asked in a low voice.

'That,' Sherlock answered, 'Is Mycroft, the head of this city-what you would call a mayor-he also happens to be my older brother. And he uses that against me at every conceivable time.' The human nodded, having an older sister he knew what that felt like. His heart panged when he remember he no longer had a sister. The blond felt a hand rest lightly on his shoulder, offering the support he needed. He smiled at the elf

'Shall we go?' Sherlock gestured in front of them and John nodded his affirmative.