The Silver Dragon's Quest

ISBN-13: 978-0979593581

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PROLOGUE

The Ancient One silently studied the pictures in the still pool. He was observing a triple birth, one that could unleash an evil on the Earth that would cause much pain and suffering. This was not in accordance with the original Plan.

The Old Dragon quietly contemplated what he could do to remedy this potential disaster. It was not permitted for him to interfere with the birth, but he could send a direct warning that whosoever used magical powers for evil purposes would be doomed. He could also send an Emissary in case the warning was ignored.

To satisfy the Law, it would have to be someone born without knowledge of his own power, someone who would innocently and unknowingly fulfil the Quest.

He would have gifts to assist him in his task, a beautiful voice, a loving heart, wisdom beyond his years, strength and gentleness but it would be a hard path. Although there would be joy, there would also be great pain. It would take someone very special. But who?

The Ancient One looked again into the pool. The barely noticeable star shaped mark on his forehead began to glow with an ever-increasing golden light as he focused on what was needed. The water clouded over and gently swirled while he waited in perfect stillness. Abruptly the water cleared, and a picture formed. It was the face of a young Silver Dragon, his blue eyes eager as he sent the thought: “I will go.”

“Ah, yes,” sighed the Old Dragon with a satisfied smile. “You are the One. I have a task for you.”

 

CHAPTER ONE

Amidst gales of breathless laughter, the two young dragons hovered in mid-air.

“I beat you that time,” said Toby. “I knew I would do it today.”

“You sure did,” said Robbie. “That was a neat flying manoeuvre. Completely fooled me. Did you figure it out yourself?”

“Yup! I've been practicing a lot when you go off on your quiet times, and it's really paying off. Oops, look at the sun. Gotta go. Promised mother I’d be home by noon. Coming?”

“No, I'm going to stay for a bit. See you later.”

Robbie grinned as Toby, out of sheer exuberance, flipped his brilliant green body into a somersault, dipped his wings in salute and raced off home.

Robbie slowly drifted down to the top of the cliff and, with a contented sigh, nestled himself comfortably. He gazed at the beauty surrounding him. It was a patchwork of fields, forests, hills, and wild places, with streams and rivers bountifully supplying the land. In the distance, he could see the craggy hillside where most of the dragons from his village lived. His human friends lived largely in the village except for those in the outlying farms.

As blue sky darkened into night, two moons would rise in their glory, one with a bluish tinge and the other more greenish, but always the same distance apart. He had watched them many times and always found peace in their majestic beauty. This was rather unusual for a young dragon, but then, Robbie was an unusual dragon.

Alexander Robert the Third—known to all as Robbie—had caused quite a stir when he hatched, because his colour was like unpolished silver from head to tail tip, including his tummy. This was an unheard of colour for dragons. In fact, no one could recall it ever happening before. His mum (whose hide was greenyyellow) and his dad (who was deep sky-blue) didn't care. They had a son, and they were so proud they were fit to bust!

Robbie was different in other ways, too. He was able to see the aura of energy that surrounds all living things and could tell by the colours how they were feeling. He could also see the fairies and nature spirits who look after flowers, plants, and trees. As a youngster, he had spoken openly of these things, thinking everyone else could see them too, but they couldn't. They laughed at him and called him crazy, accusing him of making it up. The adults were kinder, but even they thought he had a very active imagination.

Although he soon learned to keep these things to himself, it left him with a sense of loneliness, of being different from everyone else. He couldn't even speak of these things to Toby, his best friend. It would be unbearable if Toby thought he was weird, too.

So Robbie became a bit of a daredevil, just to prove he was “normal.” By keeping his gift to himself, people soon forgot about his claims, and he became both accepted and popular. No one knew of the deep longing in his heart for something more.

Robbie was a fine looking young dragon with a ready smile. When he helped his dad in the store (Dragon Artefacts and Memorabilia – dragons love collecting things), he seemed to light up the place with his laughter, occasionally bursting into song just for the fun of it! Robbie had a beautiful voice and was often invited to sing at local events. The customers really enjoyed being served by him, not only because he was very knowledgeable about the things in the store, but if an item was heavy, he would always offer to carry it home for them. All in all, his ‘tween years (the years between childhood and Coming of Age) were very happy and filled with adventure, fun, and laughter.

Those 'tween years were almost over though. His Coming of Age Celebration was imminent and very soon he would have to declare what he wanted to do with his life. He had always thought he would work with his dad in the family business and yet…somewhere buried deep inside him, he sensed a special purpose to his life. He just couldn't give it a name. Looking out at the peaceful fields and mountains, he suddenly cried out in anguish “What is it I am supposed to do?”

The echo of his voice slowly faded away, but there was no reply. After a few minutes, he shrugged and muttered to himself, “What exactly were you expecting, Robbie? A miracle?” Then, to vent his frustration, he thrust off his powerful back legs and soared into the air. Flying always restored his good humour and put things into perspective.

Arriving home, he was delighted to find the jolly bronze figure of Uncle George standing in the front garden waiting for him. It was at least three years since he had last visited. He had a big grin on his face, and his eyes sparkled.

“Hello, Robbie. I thought this might be a good time to pay you a visit!”

Uncle George was his dad’s younger brother, and, although they loved each other, they were totally different. Uncle George was a bit of a rebel and still refused to go into the family business. Instead, he chose to adventure his way around the world, just like Great-Great-Grandfather Cornelius. He, too, had travelled the world but, eventually, brought much honour to the family by becoming Grand Advisor to the Dragon King of Grindilar. Uncle George, however, was still happily living a carefree life and showed no signs of settling down.

Although a wanderer, George was welcomed wherever he went, because he had a wonderful talent. He was a marvelous storyteller. Dragons love stories, and villages would gladly swap food, drink, and a place to sleep for an evening of stories.

In the middle of Robbie's village, there was a big square patch of grass dotted with shade trees and sunning rocks. Every evening, Uncle George would make himself comfortable on a nice warm rock and tell his stories. Both young and old, human and dragon were held spellbound as his words carried them along on his incredible adventures.

At the beginning, Robbie had been as eager to listen as everyone else, but, as the days passed, he became more and more restless. It just wasn't good enough to hear about these things. He wanted to see and experience them for himself.

Suddenly, the answer to his cliff top question was crystal clear. He, too, would have to walk away from the family business and go adventuring. He decided to talk to Uncle George.

George was in the garden reading the Dragon News.

“Hi there, Robbie. What's up?”

Robbie hesitated a moment and then burst out, “Why do you keep travelling, Uncle George? What are you searching for? How come you don't stay here with us?”

Uncle George looked at Robbie intently for a moment, and then folded up the newspaper. “You are a thoughtful and observant young fellow. You deserve an honest answer, so I will tell what governs my life.”

Robbie, thrilled by this unexpected response, quickly settled himself down into his focused listening posture, his eyes half closed, a habit he had adopted as a youngster so as not to give his feelings away.

“One day, when I was about your age, I was roaming the hills around our home and discovered a new cave, so I flew down to explore. To my surprise, I found an old Grey Dragon sitting in the opening. Except for a faint mark on his forehead, there was nothing unusual about him.

As I approached, he said, “Hello, George. I have been waiting for you!”

I was shocked. “How do you know my name?” I asked.

He ignored my question and said, “I have a message for you.”

Then, he looked deeply into my eyes and said, “The Great Shining One invites you to visit Him.”

Uncle George paused, “Do you know who the Great Shining One is, Robbie?”

Robbie, who had felt a big shiver run down his spine at the mention of that name, numbly shook his head. Uncle George said, in a voice of deep respect, “The Great Shining One is the Father of our Race and is revered by all those who know of him. An invitation to visit the Great Shining Dragon is an amazing honour.

“I immediately asked where I could find the Great One so I could go to him straight away. The Grey Dragon looked at me with amusement and stretched his wings lazily before answering.

“That is not for me to say…but for you to find out!” And with those words, he disappeared. Just like that. Gone! I never saw him again, but that meeting changed my life.”

Robbie's eyes were wide open now, and his silver body began to gleam in excitement. Uncle George continued.

“There was little else I could do but go searching for the Great Shining Dragon. Sometimes I find clues that lead me one way and then other clues that lead me in a different direction. Sometimes I think I will never find him and other times He feels really close. I just have to keep looking…and that's why I travel the world.”

Robbie looked at his Uncle with deep respect. “Doesn't it upset you that with all your trying you never find Him?”

His Uncle gave him a big grin, shrugged his broad bronze shoulders, and his green eyes twinkled. “Sometimes, yes.

“Sometimes I get quite frustrated, but then I remember the key, and everything falls into place again.”

Robbie looked excitedly at his Uncle and said breathlessly, “What key?”

Looking fondly into Robbie’s blue eyes, he said, “It isn’t your destination that's important. It's the journey to your destination that counts.”

Puzzled, his eyes half closed as he focused on his Uncle's words, Robbie said, “I am not sure understand.”

“Life is a journey, Robbie. How you travel that journey, how many stops you make, what you do there, how long you stay is all up to you. It's those choices that make you who you are. Your destination is the inspiration that keeps you going when things get rough.”

As Robbie was absorbing this sage advice, his mother came home laden with shopping and called out to him “Could you help me, dear. I have so many bags today.”

“Just a minute, Mum. I'll be right there.” Robbie turned back to his Uncle. “You know I'll be following in your footsteps, don’t you?”

“Yes, I know,” said Uncle George. “I knew it the minute I set eyes on you. Your dad will be disappointed.”

“I'm not sure about that,” Robbie said thoughtfully. “I think he has always suspected I would go off on my own. That's probably why he kept encouraging me to think for myself.”

“Well, that could be. Your dad is a very fine, intelligent dragon. Anyway, I'll be off tomorrow. My mission here is completed. Good luck, young fellow. You will do well. Now you better go and help your Mother,” said George smiling, as they high-fived each other.

 

* * * * *

From Story 1

. . . . . I AM THE GREATEST DRAGON IN THE LAND! I AM IN CONTROL! YOU! ARE! NOTHING!” he shrieked, his voice filled with bitter hatred.

“I can't kill you while you have that stone around your neck, but I can make you suffer, suffer in a way that you will remember for the rest of your life,” he snarled. “Your friend will die in agony before your eyes, and you won't be able to stop me!” He raised his hand and threw a powerful bolt of lightning at Toby that scorched everything in close range as it hurtled on its deadly way.

To Rob, everything seemed to be in slow motion. He could see the bolt coming, see what it was doing, and knew that Toby would die in excruciating pain.

Suddenly, from deep within himself a power rose up, almost overwhelming him in its intensity. He threw up his right hand, palm toward the bolt, and roared in anguished desperation, “NOOOOO…!” . . . . . .

 

* * * * *

From Story 2

. . . . As though in a dream, Rob said to the Prince, “Give me your sword.” As Rob touched the pieces, his whole body tingled, and energy started to build within him. He took the pieces and placed them on a flat rock. They fitted together perfectly. Rob was aware of an incredible energy pulsing in his body and getting so powerful he thought he would burst.

Suddenly, he took a huge breath, held it for a few seconds, and then let it explode through his pursed lips. An incredible jet of flame shot from his mouth and enveloped the sword. There was a loud sizzling sound, like a red hot horseshoe being dropped in cold water, and the break was completely sealed. Lightning raced up and down the blade time and time again. Then, as suddenly as it had started, it finished, and Rob sank wearily to the ground. . . . .

 

* * * * *

From Story 3

. . . .Rob had never been so badly battered in his life. He was sure his wings were about to be ripped apart. His head was ringing from the incessant clamour of the thunder, and any moment he expected to be burned to a cinder by the terrifying lightning. He was exhausted and could no longer stop himself from being driven into the tumultuous seas. A split second before huge waves smothered him, the back of his head was seared by a flash of light and in a dazed state he sank deeper and deeper into the water.

The more he sank, the more peaceful everything became. “I guess this is it,” he thought as he closed his eyes in exhaustion. . . .