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A hoarse, hissing cry rent the air above the burning sands of the Palmira desert, accompanied by the soft swoosh of giant, beating wings. Khalise arced leisurely into a canyon, his large wings navigating his body around its twists and hairpin turns. A few moments later, the great Dragon emerged from the ravine, spun and glided upside-down, his black scales gleaming in the mid-afternoon sun, before turning and speeding off across the desert.
He cried out again, his eerie howl likely chilling the blood of any foreigners who happened to be in the vicinity. The nomad tribes he watched over trusted him far more than other Humans, though most saw him only as a protector, not a friend. There are exceptions to every rule, however, and to this one there was the Rahmi tribe.
As the Rahmi village came into view over the horizon, Khalise made a few more spirals in the air, savoring the feeling of flight. The freedom it offered never got old. He eventually came to rest on a rock formation a few hundred yards from the village -- his customary spot. He courteously waited a few minutes to see if anyone would spot him; when no one did, he lifted his head and bellowed loudly, his Draconic voice echoing like the tolling of a great bell. Now aware of his presence, a few of the village men came out of their huts. Alongside them was a young girl, hurrying towards the base of his perch. Khalise would have smiled at the sight of her, had his current physiology allowed it. Unfolding his wings, it took two mighty flaps to lift him into the air, where he glided down to meet her.
As he neared the ground there was a bright flash, and with a faint whoosh, the Dragon was gone. In its place was a male Human in his mid-twenties, messy black hair blowing in the breeze as the two smaller wings on his back bore him safely to the desert below. The girl skidded to a stop in front of him.
"Hello Lucha-" Khalise began amiably, his solid gray eyes glittering, but she cut him off.
"Khalise! You're late!" She scolded playfully. She was a pretty girl in the height of her adolescence, her tanned face framed nicely by two black braids. She wore the traditional garb of her tribe: a patterned leather vest over a yellow tunic. And, if Khalise's memory served him well, she was turning seventeen today.
"Just checking up on some bandits I put a scare into the other day," Khalise said, adjusting his black tunic and beginning to stride towards the two men waiting for them closer to the village. "They're still too petrified to come out of their den." He shot the girl a sideways smile and Lucha grinned. Khalise suspected she thoroughly enjoyed having a friend who could transform into a terrifying Dragon.
"It's your birthday today, isn't it?" he said suddenly, and she grinned even wider. "I brought you something." From underneath his cloak, Khalise drew a small orb, the size of an apple, which glowed with a warm orange radiance. Lucha gasped and held out her hands.
"Is that...?" Her voice trailed off as Khalise dropped the orb into her hands. It was warm to the touch.
"A Salamander egg," Khalise confirmed, "Straight from a nest in the Dakarama Mountains."
"Oh my gosh, Khalise, thank you so much!" She threw her arms around the Aldryn's neck. "You know I've always wanted one!" Khalise chuckled.
"Just be careful with it when it hatches, though -- you don't want to accidentally burn down the village."
"I know! I'll take good care of it, you'll see."
As they approached the huts that marked the beginning of the Rahmi village, Lucha's father, a large man named Fuers, stepped forward and slapped the Aldryn on the back. Khalise responded by punching him in the chest, and Fuers smirked.
"Still as tough as ever, I see." He jerked his head towards the village. "C'mon, you two." Looking at him, Khalise had to wonder how a man like Fuers could have produced a child as delicate-looking as Lucha (though Khalise knew Lucha was anything but delicate). Fuers was taller than Khalise, at least in human form, and very obviously muscled. His arms were decorated with the scars of many battles, and his piercing brown eyes felt like they bore into your soul. His black mane was tied back in a single long ponytail, as many of the Rahmi men wore their hair.
"Go on in!" Fuers called heartily as they neared his hut, "Alma has prepared a special meal for Lucha's birthday."
Within a few minutes, the four were seated around the table that comprised half of the small hut that Lucha's family called home. The other half was taken up by the three mats upon which they slept.
"So, Khalise," Fuers was saying, "I've always meant to ask you: what's your deal?"
"Fuers!" Lucha's mother, Alma, looked horrified.
"Relax," Fuers said sternly, "I'm just wonderin'. I mean," he turned back to Khalise, "You don't need to protect us; we never asked you to. What's in it for you?" Khalise looked down, chewing his food slowly as he contemplated his answer. Lucha furrowed her brow; she had never really questioned Khalise's motives before. He was their protector, that's all there was to it. She listened closely as Khalise finally spoke.
"I guess... for the same reason as my brother."
"Lohkar?" Lucha had heard about Khalise's brother Lohkar -- he was the protector of the Palmiran nomad tribes long before Khalise. He had vanished, however, when Lucha was four years old, and Khalise took over his job.
"So then, why did Lohkar protect us?" Fuers persisted.
"He doesn't have to explain himself if he doesn't want to, Fuers."
"Well, it's just not common for an Aldryn to be consortin' with Humans, let alone protectin' them."
"So if he were a real Dragon it would be different?"
"No, look, I'm just curious, is all," Fuers said defensively. "No need to get so up in arms about it."
"Look," Khalise raised his hands, "I don't rightly know why my brother was so intent on protecting you. I'm just his replacement."
"So you don't really care about us?"
"Fuers!"
And so it went, Lucha shooting Khalise a sly smile as her parents debate whether or not it was racist to ask Khalise his intentions. Khalise returned her grin with a small chuckle. He knew Fuers meant well.
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