Tears stream down your face as the flames around you grow higher and higher. Soot and ash mix with despair to leave you helpless and sobbing, with nowhere to turn but your own trembling hands. There's only [[one chance. -> A New Beginning]]It all began, one way or another, when you were chosen to apprentice in [[magic. -> History]] The local wizard saw great power deep in you and with no parents or guardians it was this or return back to the workhouse that had taken you in as a baby. The studies had been complex and the chores had been tiring but you'd stuck with it and here you were on [["graduation day." -> Graduation Day]]The village you lived in had always relied on magic one way or another. The mystical protections granted by a long line of witches and wizards had (supposedly) kept all manner of banditry and evil at bay. Though they also acted as unofficial doctors more modern thinking villagers had stopped visiting for all but the most dire of circumstances (say, a difficulty in the bedroom). While it had been many centuries since anyone had seen any kind of ne'er-do-well the stories passed down about their villainy terrified everyone and so [[you had been chosen. -> A New Beginning]]You stand up straight and stare nervously at your master. A faint glow of purple-green aura surrounds him as he prepares to demonstrate your final spell. You hear a sharp intake of breath from [[the wizard's familiar -> Melchior]] as the aura flows from his fingers straight into him. In the blink of an eye the great falcon had transformed into a horse. "Now this transformation spell is very complex and you must only use it once you have truly mastered it." You nod nervously and look up at your master speaking down to you from horseback. "Can't you stay just for another week to make sure I can handle it?" "Now child you have been training under me for many years I know you can take care of everything without me." Emotions rise in your throat, you'd grown quite attatched to the old man in the years he'd been training you but you always knew this day had been coming. "Farewell, and good luck." And he was [[gone. -> Day To Day]]A talking falcon was one of the easiest things to get used to in this house. Either he was trying to bring you dead rats and scoffing when you refused them or he was listening and giving advice to help with all your insecurities about not being magical enough. Though he could change shape at will your teacher always kept him on a short leash. A bull with the temper of an falcon avoiding bathtime is always a [[dangerous combo. -> Graduation Day]]Most days were quiet, you're mostly left to your own studies and practices. A lot of the villagers don't like to bother a witch and those that do can't always make the trip out to the edge to see you. On this particular day you'd been called into the centre of town to help a sick child. It's your first house visit and although you're nervous you pack up your supplies and make the journey. The child's family all stood around the bed nervously. None of them would talk to you or look at you for too long, you can tell. You rub a sickly green salve on the child's forehead, muttering mystic words under your breath. "Just keep them in bed for a few days and they should be fine. If their condition worsens just come see me again." The grandmother nods to your instructions, pleasantly smiling to herself. She's the only one who would speak to you. You sigh and put on your cloak, it's a long walk back to [[your cottage. -> Annual Spells]]You slam the door to your home and begin to trudge north. It was that time of year again, once the first chill of winter starts sweeping through the treetops and something in your bones tells you trouble is around the corner. You make your way up to the top of the tallest hill in the area, the one overlooking the entire village. You raise your hands and extend your fingers towards the town hall, mumbling the words under your breath, [[words passed down for generation to generation. -> Protection]] It's never a difficult journey but you brought a shawl anyway and enough water to last you the way home. The village is safe for another year and you go back to being [[unexciting. -> Routine]]It was centuries ago when the village was last in danger, a horde of bandits burned down half the buildings and noone knew why. Everyone always told you humans are unpredictable, impossible to control and that's why it happened. And then on that grim day when so many had died the first magic user had stood up and protected everyone. Sent every bandit running for the hilltops never to return and from then on the village had been safe. The magic user concocted several powerful spells to keep the area hidden, safe from anyone or anything that might do its people harm. Even if you knew about the village before the knowledge would drain from your mind the moment you sought violence, or vengeance. And those spells had been passed down witch after wizard after witch and finally [[to you. -> Annual Spells]]Most people think the life of a magic user is fantastical, every minor task made easy and beautiful. Brooms cleaning by themselves, vegetables cut by knives unheld and fireballs to start a simple campfire. Unfortunately magic is never that simple and in the time it would take to charm a broom to clean for an hour you could have swept 20 floors. The one thing a witch never stops doing is practice, learning new things and relearning old ones. Reading ancient books full of dusty scribblings from wizards and witches across the ages. One of your favourite pasttimes is drinking a warm cup of tea late at night and using candlelight to check old runes. Though you sometimes get bored you rarely complain, even though every day is the same [[old thing. -> Baby]]You'd like to say you noticed it immediately, that your witch instincts let you know right away what you were dealing with. But sitting atop the hill near your cottage staring out to the fields the last thing on your mind was to examine the small creature trying to climb up your dress. After slowly picking it up and placing it on the ground away from you you stand up, brush off your legs and start heading off towards home. With your head in the clouds it takes you a minute to hear the low quiet coughing behind you. You spin around to see the small creature, a lizard it seems like, face first on the ground and trying to get up. After considering for a minute you decide you could either [[pick it up and take it with you->Pick It Up]] or [[leave it to fend for itself.->Leave It]]There must be hundreds of creatures on these hills, some parentless and some childless. It's not your responsibility to look after each and every one of them. You continue onwards towards home, nearly slipping down the hillside on your way. As you reach your doorway you hear a tumbling noise and turn around to see the small shape of the creature rolling slowly down the hill, apparently it decided to follow you home anyway. You decide to [[take a closer look.->Examine]]You lean down and scoop up the small creature in your arms. Its scales are cool to the touch with a slight warmth hidden within. You look around worried for a family member or another of its species but there's nothing around for miles. You decide to carry it back to your cottage and give it a [[proper looking over.->Examine]] After lighting a fire, placing a kettle atop it and giving the creature a small saucer of water you sit down at your desk and get started. The creature is definitely some kind of lizard; scales tail and teeth all seem to match typical reptiles in the area. An odd thing is there seems to be some sort of webbing under its arms like that of a flying squirrel. Its particular coloration also doesn't match anything in your books. You sit back drinking a cup of herbal tea, watching the creature slowly munch down a small biscuit, wondering what it is and where it came from. Once it finishes eating it lets out a burp and you notice a small flame coming out of its mouth. You gasp and run to your shelf of [[myths from the area.->Dragon]]There had been writings about it in every book of myths for centuries. Noone had ever seen one and reported it but everyone knew the stories. Huge winged creatures that would roam the skies lighting entire towns alight and eating humans and animals alike. [[Dragons.->What Now]]You fall back into your chair. All the books confirm your suspicions, the creature in front of you is definitely a baby dragon, the first one even heard about in decades. All of the books are fuzzy on the details but the old wizard's guild had managed to stop the attacks and people had moved on, assuming the fires had been caused by bandits or such. Everything about dragons is hypothetical and you keep finding yourself looking over at the baby just to make sure it actually exists. It lets out another firey burp and looks at you expectantly, still looking for more food. Before you even have a chance to think what to do next the door to your cottage suddenly bursts open. "Please madam witch you have to help us, our granny has been asleep for 2 days and nothing we do wakes her!" Throwing down a few more biscuits for the dragon you help carry in the old lady and lay her on her bed. Mythological creatures would have to wait, you have [[work to do.->Awake]]It doesn't take long for you to stabalise the old woman's condition, she'd been afflicted with a fever common to the elder members of the village. You sent the family members on their way as there was nothing to be done until she awoke on her own. Leaving her with a cool cloth on her head and a jar of medicines next to the bed you turn your attention back to the dragon. Thankfully it hadn't attracted any attention, it was hardly the first strange animal in your cottage, and now it was curled up on your desk asleep. You notice that it was starting to get progressively warmer and you make a mental note to find any notes about fire prevention in your books. Suddenly you hear a weak coughing and you whip back to your bed just as the old woman opens her eyes. "Take it easy. You've been asleep for a long time, you need to be careful." "How long was it?" she asks, taking a sip from the tea you handed her. "Your family said two days." You sit quietly while she sips the tea until she turns to look towards [[the sleeping dragon.->Accusations]]"What is that?" She asks. "What is what?" You reply, trying your best to look confused. "Do not play games with me, child. You may be a witch now but I am still your elder." "Oh that, it's uh, it's a creature I found on the hills." "Do you know what it is?" "Well," "Do You Know What It Is?" The question cuts through you like a knife, you'd never been a very good liar. "Yes." You whisper, "It's a dragon." "Do you know the stories about those creatures?" Her face could stop arrows. "Yes but-" "Destruction given form. An unholy combination of death, destruction and fire. They have no place on this earth." The silence hurts more than what was said, the question she didn't dare to ask. "I know, I'll deal with it." You can barely even form the words but you say them anyway. More silence. The old woman rises from the bed and takes a few uneasy steps before striding towards the door. "If you don't the village, YOUR village, could be in grave danger." She slams the door behind her. You [[sink to the floor. -> Thoughts]]The reality of the situation hit you so hard and suddenly it knocked the air from your lungs and there was nothing to do but cry. You can feel something warm against your side and hear a little scratching sound. The little dragon is trying its best to climb your arm. You wipe away your tears away and pick it up, it struggles a little in your grasp and tries to give your nose a nip. Clearly it's hungry and regardless of what the old woman said all you see in front of you is a baby creature in need of help, just as you see every day. You place it carefully on the ground and walk over to its food bowl to give it some more food. It dances around you nipping at your ankles like a [[little puppy.->Decision]]You watch the small dragon as it munches happily, a few times it nearly catches your clothes on fire with its burps and you realise you should probably fireproof a few things. In the middle of mixing together some salves you realise you've completely forgotten about the confrontation you just had. How are you supposed to kill such an innocent creature? Why is this decision up to you? Your hands start shaking and you put down the mixing bowl before you cause an explosion and turn to stare at the dragon again. It's finished eating and curled up in its bed again, staring out the window in bemusement. A bird flies into the windowsill and the dragon raises its head suddenly spooking it away. You make a [[decision.->A Week Later]]A week has passed and you've tried to put things out of your mind. The little dragon still lives with you and every day you are wracked with guilt and indecision. Was this thing really a monster? Did it so deserve to die? Everything it does just seems to be the stumbling actions of a baby animal. It eats, sleeps and plays like one of the [[puppies you used to look after as a child.->Puppy Story]] Against your better judgement you decided to name it "Dagron" after a misspelling in one of your mythology books. You called it Ron for short. You still had no idea if it was a boy or a girl, that part of dragon anatomy hadn't been covered, but it came when you called it and learnt when it should stop trying to eat your curtains. It looked at you like you were its mother and it tried to sneak in your bed on cold nights and [[they all wanted you to kill it.->Visitors]]It was how you'd been selected as a candidate to be a witch in the first place. It only started with one or two at first, little dogs without homes or food that needed care. You would sneak away parts of your dinner to feed them and spend half the night playing with them. One night someone caught you, the village elder, and what she said to you stayed in your head ever since. "Someone like you ought to be a magic user, we need someone who will look after our home, not just us but the critters around us." That village elder had passed away [[a long time ago.->A Week Later]]You keep getting visitors, people looking for the dragon. You tell them time and time again that you had gotten rid of it days ago, took it to the edge of the village and left it there. They'd even joked about sending out search parties to recover its remains but She just stood there, arms crossed, looking through you. "I know it's here somewhere child." She whispers, once the others are out the door "We'll keep coming back until we find it." "As I said," you reply calmly "it's most likely dead somewhere on the hills, nothing could survive this winter up there." Another piercing gaze and then she was gone. You let out a long sigh of relief and fetch the pot that's hidden a little ways up the chimney. Dagron coughs up a little soot and looks up at you. "That was too close." You'd found yourself talking to Ron more and more often lately. "I hope they don't come [[tomorrow too." ->Tomorrow]]It had been over a week since then, since the last time they had visited. You could breathe a sigh of relief and relax thinking that they had finally gotten the message. Though that didn't stop you from looking out the windows every half hour to make sure they weren't on their way. Slowly but surely you managed to sink back into your routine. Caring for the animals that live around you, keeping your house tidy and, of course, looking after Dagron. He'd taken to climbing up the trees surrounding your cottage and gliding slowly down to the ground while you look up and giggle at all the leaves he'd knock down in the process. Of course such times were [[not to last.->Mob]]It was a chilly Sunday evening and the cold keeps you inside, lazily sat in your armchair watching the birds outside. Ron despises such weather and, possibly out of affection or more likely to keep warm, has curled up on your lap asleep almost as if he were a housecat. Suddenly there's a loud banging at your door and you sit bolt upright, keeping your hand pressed on Ron's back to stop him running off. A deep voice booms through the wood of your door. "We know you're in there, we've come for the beast. Bring it outside now you... You WITCH." You recognise the voice right away. One of the woodcutters that lived in the village, you had mended his leg less than a month ago. But the way he spat his words at you, it made your blood freeze. "Witch" as if it was a cursed title befitting a mutt on the street. You shove Ron unceremoniously into his bed and scramble to the door, opening it a crack. There are several men outside, some holding axes others holding torches crackling in the summer air. "What do you want? What beast?" "Do not play games Witch. We know it's in there." And there in the centre of the group, the village elder whose words were filled with even more poison than anyone elses'. For the all cheered her on and jeered at you as she spoke. "Not two days ago we saw the retched thing circling your house. It's getting bigger - it must die. There's no point in lying anymore, [[you can't hide the monster any longer."->Dagron]]You can't see an exit. The fire had spread fast from the doorway and now circled the entire house. There are flames all around you and lying at your feet is the body of a small lizard, pierced by the crossbow bolt from before. You kneel down next to the small body of Dagron, and let out a short quiet wail. They'd killed him. Tears stream down your face as the flames around you grow higher and higher. Soot and ash mix with despair to leave you helpless and sobbing, with nowhere to turn but your own trembling hands. There's only one chance but, you can't even bring yourself to move. Such a small innocent creature had been killed and you couldn't protect him, what good were you as a witch? What right did you have [[to survive?->The Spell]]Before you could answer you're violently pushed back onto the ground as the group break down the door. It nearly flies off its hinges from such force and you sit up to defend yourself but the entire group had stopped at your doorway. A sudden silence swept over your cottage and you look down to see Dagron standing in front of you ready to defend you. One of the group steps forward aiming their crossbow at Ron and Ron responds in kind by belching a large fireball straight at him. You must have not noticed how much bigger Ron had been getting for the fireball was the biggest you had ever seen. You try to shout out that he was just protecting himself but it was too late. The mob member who had kicked down your door fires straight at the fireball, most likely out of terror, and screams horribly as it washes over him, catching his clothes alight. Screaming and flailing the man turns and barrels straight through the rest of the group who all either follow or run off to put out their own fires. You slowly get to your feet and look around terrified, your cottage has [[caught on fire.->The End]]All of a sudden the room goes silent. The fire around you stops spreading. You look around and everything around you starts to fade into darkness. You look back down at the dragon's body and see a small, blue flame burning just above it. You reach out and put your hand into the fire expecting it to burn you. Instead a warm happiness rushes over you and you feel a voice in your head. "Thank you for taking care of me, you are the first of your kind not to be afraid of me. So many have found me only to abandon me out of fear. Only you helped me and now only you can hear me. I do not want you to die. Please, you are my friend." And with that the voice fades, the world is returning and the flames begin to flow once again. You stand up and [[take a breath.->Real Dragon]]You were never sure why the spell chose that form. You barely had time to mutter the incantations before the flames enveloped you. The village elder stands outside your cottage watching the flames burn, a grim look of determination on her face waiting for any sign of life that she might order it destroyed. There were no half measures when it came to dragons. Suddenly the roof of the cottage exploded, bit of wood and stone rained down around her as a great horrifying beast broke through. This was not a tiny whelp of a beast as you had seen but a fully grown powerful dragon, straight out of fairy books. She could just spot the tiny figure of the baby dragon clutched in its claw and she screams out at the heavens, cursing you and cursing your name. But you are already gone, soaring above on the wild winds of the mountains far far above all the pain, and misery and heartache of below. Some part of your brain tells you that this is it, there's no going back. But you clutch Dagron closely to your chest and whisper to him "I will not die, I'm a dragon now." [[and soar ever higher.->Credits]]Thank you for reading and playing my story. I can understand how this doesn't seem like much of a game but it was a story I wanted to write anyway. It took me a long time to finish this and the story didn't exactly turn out how I expected but I enjoyed making it all the same. This was The Witch's Friend and was written by Riley Rimmer. [[Play Again?->Intro]]