Dragyn’s Point of View

What do a brightly shining sun, a clean window and sufficient hours of sleep mean for me?

Time to get up.

I groaned and pulled the covers over my head, trying to keep out Mr.Sunshine, but he was determined.  “Ugh…fine!” I growled, throwing the blanket off of me.  Groggily, I stumbled out of my low hammock-type bed.  “Stupid sun…” I grumbled, grabbing my green shirt from the hook on the wall.  Can’t afford pajamas, you know.  But my cargo pants and no shirt work fine for an outcast like me.

Yeah, you heard me.  Outcast.  I’ve been living on my own for about 8 years now.  But please, no pity.  I’m happier, and probably safer, out here.  None of those people in Wyng village would be too kind to me if I set foot back in there.  Why?

Well, apparently, I’m cursed by our dragon Elders because I don’t have a dragon and I’m 18 years old. You’re supposed to get one when you’re like, ten.  I didn’t.  Therefore, cursed.  Oh, and then there’s the fact I look like a rare and dangerous beast known as a fire dragon.  Which, when I look in the mirror, seems to be pretty cool to me.  But oh well.

I yawned and slowly stood upright to face my reflection in the dusty full body mirror attached to the wall.  “Yup, handsome lookin’ guy as usual!” I said grinning and giving the guy in the mirror a thumbs up.  He was tall, lean, with just a few muscles to show there was strength beneath the good looks.  His disheveled hair was a bright, flaming red color and spiked out in all directions.  It was just long enough to slightly cover the molten gold eyes beneath. I laughed and pulled on my shirt.  See?  Happy.

Stifling another yawn, I stalked into, what I called, my kitchen.  It wasn’t a professional chef’s kitchen to say the least.  There was a small fire pit of my own design in the middle, and a couple of mounted shelves on the walls.  I stared despairingly at the emptiness of them and cursed.  Forgot to go shopping again.  That means no breakfast.  Crap…

I glared at my growling stomach and lifted the ratty cloth I used for a door from the frame, shielding my eyes against the sudden light as I walked out.  Dang, the sun is bright up here.  

Oh, yeah.  When I said outcast, I didn’t mean living-on-the-outskirts-of-town outcast.  I live on a mountain ten freaking MILES away.  Yeah, I’m that outcast.  The elder of the village was kind enough to build me this nice little house…if you could call it that…up on this mountain where I get one hell of a view.  I can not only see the village, but I can see the port beyond on the trade road and the sea.  Too bad I missed the sunrise, but oh well.  The sunsets are cool too.  I stretched and took a deep breath.  Ah, nothing like that crisp, fresh mountain air.   Suddenly, I was wide awake and raring to start the day.  Let’s see…I could do some fishing up by the spring.  Maybe I’d get lucky and catch some breakfast…Or, I could go down the mountain a bit to a valley.  I call it my Valley of Solitude.  Nice huh?  No one else knows about it.  That’s what makes it so peaceful.  I play my ocarina there on nice days like this.  The acoustics in that place rock.  Echoes just perfect.  But, anyway, I decided to head off to my Valley.  It’s too nice a day to go fishing.  Who wants to do work on days like this?  I take back my stupid sun remark.  

I forgot to mention. There’s no paths up here, just rock.  So, I’m a good climber.  A really good climber.  I would wager I’m faster than most guys my age down at the village.  Course, they don’t need to climb, they have their dragons…

I reached the valley in record time, even for me.  I guess I really wanted to play today.  I jumped down from my rocky perch and jogged over to the nearest willow tree.  That’s where I kept my ocarina, in a knothole in the trunk.  What? I don’t wanna lose it by carting it around with me.  Why? I like it.  So there.  I got it out and sat down on the hill in the sun.  “Ahhh…” I sighed contentedly.  This was the life.  Who said being the outcast was always a bad thing?  I lifted the instrument to my lips and began to play.  

It was a haunting melody, one I’d written for someone I knew.  It suited them perfectly.  Calming, beautiful, and very sweet…

Then I heard two sounds that made me smile as I played.

A whisper of wind.

And a song being sung.