Taming the Dragon

Laying down, the soft straw underneath her cushioning her back, the young woman looked up and smiled at the farm boy as he pulled off his shirt. Opening her bare legs to him, she giggled as he marvelled at her pussy. Climbing on top of her, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him to her as she planted a passionate kiss on his lips. As she closed her eyes, her heart beating fast with excitement, she felt the tip of his cock press against her entrance.

Breaking the kiss, she looked up at him, mouth slightly open and eyes burning with desire. Beckoning him on, she let out a soft cry as he slipped inside her. She was in heaven, and as he started to move, she felt a pleasure, unlike anything she'd ever experienced coursing through her body. Soon the two moved in tandem, their eighteen year old bodies pressed tightly together as the girl gasped and moaned, holding her lover tight as they made love.

With each thrust of his cock, she felt a new spark burst inside her. She urged him on, wrapping her legs around him as he started to pound in and out of her with increasing speed. She felt amazing, like every part of her was about to burst into flames. The intense pleasure of his cock in her pussy made her moan, and as she felt herself approaching climax, she felt something else building as well.

Around them, the straw started to rustle, as a wind whistled through the barn. Overhead, the tools hung up on their rack began to shake and clatter. Back on the ground, writhing in ecstasy, the farm boy kept thrusting his hips, his head buried in the young woman's shoulder, unaware of what was happening around them.

The woman felt her body beginning to spasm, her moans turning to loud cries as she began to come. As her limbs moved of their own accord, the other strange sensation began to course through her as well, a burning sensation that fluttered from her chest out into her arms, to her hands, and then out further.

In a flash, the straw was alight. All around the young lovers, the barn began to burn, flames licking up the wooden walls, spreading to the thatched roof in an instant. As the two screamed, rolling away, a sudden loud crack rang out through the barn, followed by a crash, as the roof collapsed in, right on top of them. In the carnage, neither noticed the two red symbols glowing on the girl's back. Two symbols that looked like the wings of a dragon.

----------

Far away, and three years later, the same young woman let out a heavy sigh. Samara was exhausted.

She'd been walking for what felt like centuries, and the steep incline of the hillside really wasn't helping. She cursed under her breath as she made her way up the thin grassy path, planting one foot in front of the other with purpose and determination. She was so close, she wasn't going to give up now.

Lifting her head, the young woman stared up at the mountain ahead of her. Disappearing off into the distance, the imposing peak stood out amongst the ones surrounding it, the tallest in the mountain range. The grey stone tip had streaks of white snow laying on it, and Samara prayed she wouldn't have to go all the way to the top. After all, no one could possibly live all the way up there, could they?

Continuing up the path, winding her way between green trees and boulders, Samara sighed. At least the place looked nice. Only halfway up the mountainside, trees, and flowers still managed to grow, although not as thickly as they had in the dense forests below. As she'd begun her ascent, holding tight to her walking stick, the young woman had expected the mountain to look far bleaker, but the higher she climbed the more she realized how beautiful it was. This far from civilization, everything seemed much more peaceful.

Fluttering out of the trees to her left, Samara watched as a bluebird flew past her, cheeping out a happy song as it did. She smiled. The hills around her buzzed with the noises of nature, the wind rustling through the trees, the distant sound of a brook bubbling away down the hillside. She understood why someone would choose to live here.

At least, she really hoped he was living out here. Otherwise, this journey would have been completely pointless.

As she continued climbing, her mind wandered back to the reason she'd come out here in the first place. She grimaced as she remembered the look on her parents' faces, the anger in their eyes as she stepped free from the wreckage of the barn. It hadn't been her fault, she didn't mean to destroy it! How was she supposed to know she had magic powers? Or that they'd manifest themselves... then.

Samara felt her cheeks starting to turn red. There were certainly better ways for your parents to meet your new boyfriend than watching him drag himself free of the wreckage of a ruined building, stark naked and screaming about dragons. Luckily, he'd taken off across the fields before her father could wring his neck.

She wasn't surprised that he broke up with her after that. Shooting fire from your hands and bringing a building down on top of someone usually does that to a relationship. At least the sex had been good. Samara grimaced again. Maybe too good, that was the problem.

Growing up, Samara had never been the best-behaved child, always too busy getting herself into trouble to help out around the farm much. The number of times she'd disappeared, leaving her parents sick with worry, only to turn up later that evening with skinned knees and sticks in her hair was too large to count. After a while, her parents stopped even trying to find her at all.

"If you want to get yourself lost in the woods and eaten by wolves, be my guest." Her father had not been a particularly patient man.

And as the years went on, Samara had only gotten worse. As she went through her teenage years, her impulsiveness got her into more scrapes than she dared to remember. By the time she was seventeen, her parents had given up all hope of her ever settling down and finding a respectable job. No-one in the village would take her on as an apprentice, and despite the fact that she was undeniably beautiful, her relationships never seemed to last more than a few wildly-passionate months. Although that had more to do with Samara getting bored than anything else.

Stopping for a moment to catch her breath, the young woman sat herself down on the grass, resting her back against a rock as she closed her eyes, tilting her head up towards the sun. While it was still early spring, the weather had been uncharacteristically good, and as she relaxed, letting the heat of the sun warm her aching body, Samara smiled in contentment.

She'd always been a summer person. There was nothing she loved more than relaxing under the sun, with as much of her body exposed as she could get away with. The belted brown travelling tunic she wore now came down to her mid-thighs, over a pair of tan trousers, and she felt incredibly stuffy, but she decided this really wasn't the time to strip off. After all, she didn't want the sage's first impression of her to be a bad one.

Standing up again, Samara turned back to the mountain. Not much further to go now. She'd already come so far. After the barn incident, her parents had kicked her out, and she'd had to fend for herself. Still reeling from the sudden revelation that she had magic powers, Samara had tried everything she could think of to get them to manifest again. But, try as she might, nothing seemed to work.

While she could occasionally make little things happen, like snuff out a candle or make an apple fall from a tree, she still couldn't figure out how she'd managed to burn down the barn. So, when she'd heard about the hermit who lived on this mountain, blessed with incredible arcane powers, she'd immediately gathered up her meagre belongings and set off for the Eastern Peaks. If anyone could teach her to control her gifts, it would be him.

Following the winding path up the mountainside, weaving between copses of trees as the sounds of nature played around her, Samara eventually came to a plateau. As she got closer, she could see a thin column of smoke rising from over the crest of the rise, and when she finally got there and felt the ground beneath her feet levelling off, she saw a small stone cottage.

Sitting alone in the middle of the plateau, protected on three sides by the walls of the mountain, the little house looked serene, it's chimney giving off the smoke Samara had seen down the path. Moss and ivy covered the walls, and all around it, a garden of wildflowers bloomed, their colourful petals a mix of reds, blues, and yellows. Around the side, Samara could see a vegetable garden, just starting to sprout, along with a log store and an old, broken cart.

It looked absolutely beautiful.

Making her way to the old oak door, Samara took a deep breath and wrapped her knuckles against it. There was no reply. After a few seconds, Samara tried again, knocking a little louder. From inside, she heard the creak of a wooden chair, followed by footsteps, and a bolt being drawn on the other side of the door. With another creak, it opened, and poking his head into the gap, she saw a man.

His face was rugged, a well-kept beard on his chin and short hair on his head, dark brown flecked with streaks of grey around the temples. His eyes were a piercing shade of violet, and as he looked her up and down, Samara felt herself swallow hard. She hadn't expected him to be this good-looking.

"Can I help you?"

"Uh, hello. My name is Samara Pentecost, I've travelled all the way from Amaria to see you. I've heard you're a powerful sorcerer, and I really need your help.

The man let out a long sigh before speaking. "I'm sorry, kid, but you've heard wrong. I'm just an old man. Take care now."

The man gave her a smile and turned away to shut the door. As he did, Samara cried out.

"Wait, no, please! I don't have anyone else to turn to!"

"I'm sorry, but whatever it is, you're wasting your time with me."

Putting her foot in the door, Samara tried one last time.

"I have magic powers!"

The man stopped. Slowly, he looked back at Samara.

"What do you mean?"

Samara swallowed again. "I... I have magic powers. I can't really explain it, but sometimes, when I try, I can... make things happen. Please, I don't know where else to go, I was told you could help me learn to control them?"

The man stared at her for a long time. Making up his mind, he spoke.

"Well, in that case, I think you'd better come in."

Opening the door, the man beckoned Samara inside. Taking one last look over her shoulder at the path back down the mountain, she followed him into the house.

----------

Sitting in a comfy armchair, Samara took another sip of tea. It tasted sweet and smokey, unlike anything she'd tried before. She liked it. Sat across from her with a cup of his own, the man whose name she now knew was Zanith listened intently as she told him her story. She glossed over some of the raunchier parts, and by the time she was finished, Zanith had a look of understanding on his face.

"I see. And you're sure you have no idea what could have prompted these powers to manifest?"

Samara shook her head. "No. One minute, I was just normal old Samara, the next..." She waved her hand, miming an explosion. The man chuckled.

"Yes, that does tend to happen the first time. You did the right thing, coming to me. Powers like yours aren't easy to control on your own." Zanith's face softened. "I'm sorry for not letting you in at first."

Samara shrugged. "That's alright. I don't imagine you get many visitors up here. I probably would've been pretty suspicious too."

Zanith smiled, getting up from his chair and making his way to the small iron stove in the corner.

"You'll be happy to know you're not alone. There are plenty of people across the world with powers like yours." The man held up a hand, which suddenly burst into flame, which he used to stoke the embers of the fire. "I'm one of them."

A mix of emotions flooded through the young woman. On the one hand, she was relieved to have found someone who could help her and to know she wasn't alone. But on the other, she felt a bit disappointed to know she wasn't as special as she'd thought. "How many others?"

"Who can say? You are what we call a sorceress, someone who is born with great magical potential. There are a number of reasons for this, but by far the most common is dragon blood." The man turned back to her. "You are the descendant of a dragon."

Samara didn't know what to say. She sat, hands clasped tight around the cup, as she tried to process what she'd just been told. "Descendant of..."

"A dragon, yes. And before you ask, yes, that does mean exactly what you think it does."

Again, Samara didn't know what to say. "So, one of my ancestor's... you know...?"

"Yes"

"But, how did they...?"

Zanith rolled his eyes. "Dragons can shapeshift. No, your great great grandmother didn't literally have sex with a giant lizard. But, the effect is the same. For generations, your bloodline has held the latent power of dragons, and now, that power has surfaced in you." The sorcerer reached out a hand, and Samara gave him her empty cup.

"Congratulations. You're a prodigy."

Samara was dumbstruck. This was all so sudden. Of course, she'd expected the source of her powers to be something unbelievable, but not quite as unbelievable as one of her ancestors making love to a dragon. That was just... absurd!

As the young woman tried to make sense of it all, Zantih looked down at her with kind eyes. Waving his hand over the cup, it filled back up with tea, and he handed it back to her.

"I know it's a lot to take in. I barely believed it myself when I found out. But, trust me, you'll get used to it. Coming to terms with your ancestry is the first step in learning to control your powers."

Samara looked up at him. "So, you'll train me?"

"Of course. It's not going to be easy, or quick, but with a bit of help, you'll be able to control your gifts as easily as you walk down the street." Zanith smiled. "Or climbed up this mountain."

Samara laughed. Getting up from her chair, she put the cup down on an end table and stood up straight.

"So, when do we start?"

----------

The next few weeks were some of the toughest of Samara's life. Zanith explained to her that one of the most important things about her powers was how they connected to her emotions. The stronger the feelings, the more likely magic was to come out, which is exactly what had happened in the barn. Samara, again, tried to downplay exactly what she was doing, but Zanith saw right through her.

"You know, my powers manifested the night I lost my virginity as well. That's how it happens for most people." Samara's cheeks had burnt bright red for the rest of the day.

Sitting on the mountaintop with Zanith, the sorcerer coached Samara through a number of techniques. First, he taught her to meditate, something which took much, much longer than either of them wanted it to. Sitting still and quiet was not something Samara had ever been particularly good at, and while her teacher kept telling her to sit still, she found it extremely hard not to fidget.

Every day, she would sit outside on the grass of the hillside, her legs folded and her arms resting on her knees. Zantih would tell her to focus, to close her eyes and concentrate on her breathing, but the harder she tried to focus the more she ended up getting distracted. The sounds of nature around her, the uncomfortable ground under her, or the beating of her own heart always ended up getting in the way, and she'd open her eyes in frustration.

But no matter how many times she gave up, Zanith insisted she tried again. And, after a few weeks, she started to relax. She learnt to block out the world around her, to ignore the thoughts in her head, and to just disappear, fading into a trance as she let the world pass her by. It was wonderful.

Once she'd mastered meditation, the sorcerer encouraged her to bring what she'd learnt into her daily life. Over the weeks, Samara learnt to calm herself down, to stay focused on a task, and not get distracted as easily. Better yet, she felt more in touch with her own body. Where before she'd not given much thought to it, now she made sure to pay attention to every part of her being.

She ate better. She started exercising, under Zanith's instructions. She spent her time walking across the mountainside, taking in the sights and smells of the natural world. She felt at peace.

Some days were harder than others, but by midsummer, Samara felt better than she ever had. Standing out on the hillside one night, she watched as the sun slowly started to set, far away on the horizon. She took a deep breath. She was at peace.

Standing there, the chill evening air blowing gently through her hair, she thought back to the girl she'd been when she climbed up that long winding path, how unsure and frightened she'd been. She remembered the feeling of uncertainty she had, about herself and her powers. But once Zanith had started training her, all the anger and confusion had melted away.

Zanith. Samara smiled to herself as she thought of him. As the weeks had gone by, and the older sorcerer had coached her through her training, the two had become very close. As his cold exterior melted away, underneath Samara had found a kind and caring man, with a love for the natural world. Whether he was tending to the vegetable garden, or strolling through the wildflowers, humming contentedly to himself, Samara couldn't help but smile fondly.

He had always been so kind to her. When she'd struggled with her training, instead of chastising her for her lack of control, Zanith had instead guided her through, offering words of wisdom or a well-timed joke to lift her spirits. When she fell, he helped her up. When she succeeded, he praised her. No matter what, he was always there for her when she needed him. Samara smiled. He wasn't only a great mentor, he was a great friend.

As the wind whistled past her again, she wondered if that was all he was. Looking behind her to the cottage, warm light spilling from its windows, she wondered if the feelings she'd developed over the last few months were mutual. She pictured his handsome face, with its soft eyes, sparkling in the light as he smiled, and hoped they were.

Turning around, she made her way back towards the cottage. Zanith should have almost finished cooking dinner by now. She couldn't wait.

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The next morning, Samara awoke to the sounds of the morning chorus. Rolling out from under her blanket, she was surprised to see Zanith's bed empty. Standing up, and rubbing her eyes, she made her way out of the cottage and into the early morning light.

Heading towards the well to splash some water on her face, she caught sight of her mentor, standing with his back to her on the edge of the plateau, looking out over the world below. Samara felt her heart swell. He looked beautiful, bathed in the golden light of morning, standing silhouetted against the stone, hands clasped behind him. He was shirtless, as he often was when he went outside. Samara sighed. He almost looked like a painting.

Making her way across the grass towards him, she said nothing, until she was standing by his side, looking out as well. Beneath them, the steep slope of the mountain dropped down, dotted occasionally by the odd tree, until the hillside met the forest below, disappearing amidst the thick foliage. From their vantage point, the two could see out over the land for miles. In the distance, Samara could see the small shapes of villages, smoke already rising from their chimneys, and even further still, the long slow river that worked its way down to the Sapphire Sea.

She inhaled a long deep breath. The world was so wonderful.