Spellbinder Notes (Day 7)

Species (according to Ursa):

7) Dragons

- The most noble, wise, and regal of Luoja's creatures (Ursa is making me write this…)

- Dragons are part of the Quintet (she still won't tell me what that is)

o Means they were born/created before the "New Gods"

o Means that they are immortal, unless killed

§ ? – aren't most things "immortal" unless killed?

§ ? – does that mean they don't age?

§ ? – how old is Ursa? (I asked and told me it was rude to ask a lady that question)

- Dragons are knowledge seekers

o They spend their lives reading, studying, and gathering information

o All knowledge gathered by a dragon is somehow shared with all other dragons through their magic connection to their king (Ursa says it isn't magic but I can't think of what else to call it)

- Dragon King Solon

o One of the oldest dragons

o Blessed by the Great Goddess

o Guardian of all dragon knowledge and powers

o Grants dragons one "gift" (special ability) on their Namesake Day (like a coming of age gift)

o Don't know why but I feel like he is very lonely

- Namesake Day

o Day when dragons officially become an adult (about five hundred years old…..eek)

o Can ask for any special ability from Solon

- Dragons and Humans

o Dragons and humans have always had complicated relationship

o Both are fascinated by the other, but are also afraid of each other

o Dragons have been known to marry humans

§ Didn't get how, but Ursa says that one power dragons have is to shift into human form

· All dragons can but most don't

§ However, if dragon chooses to marry a human, they can never go back to their other form

· Meant to discourage dragons from taking cross-species marriage lightly

§ Dragon-human offspring are called Dragonriders

- Dragons and other creatures

o Dragons get along with most creatures but are superior to them (again ursa's words)

o Dragons naturally and instinctively do not like any other Quintet (wish she would just tell me what that is already)

o Dragons can produce with other creatures just like humans

o Apparently dragons have very few limitations and flaws (Ursa was very smug when she said this)

o Weaknesses:

§ vanity and pride (my own conclusion)

§ dragon claws and teeth

· apparently old dragon hunters would make knives and swords from them

§ the gods (luckily they are all gone, according to Ursa)

Immense and powerful, the dragon flapped its massive wings, which could cover a football field. The wings were a dark, leathery metallic purple, rippling with muscles. Five long bones ran from the forearm of each wing. A large claw the size of Chenoa's body jutted out and up from the end of each forearm. The beast itself was the size of Chenoa's house. The body was the length, including its long, thrashing tail, of two football fields and as tall as it was long. Its scales seem to be made of titanium and gleamed in the moonlight. Every scale reflected a dark metallic purple with electric blue glowing in the gaps between scales. As it flew above them, Chenoa saw four imperious legs led to deadly claws that glared onyx black.

Swaying around angrily, a long neck led to a skull the size of a Suburban. The skull had huge fans of leather skin and bone flaring out from it like a frilled lizard. The two fans on the back of the dragon's head flared out and back, connecting at the top of the neck to form a spiny fan running down its back to the end of its tail. With each roar, the creature released, the fans danced and waved.

As if to make the creature even more terrifying, two six feet long horns started on the sides of its face, above its eyes, growing up and back, forming a small wave before ending in sharp points. Swallowing hard, Chenoa could not look away from the creature's eyes, which bright, swirling colors as if galaxies were trapped in its face.

Roaring, the dragon seemed to focus on Chenoa and Tristan, who stared in numb disbelief. Diving, the dragon snatched Tristan off Chenoa as if he were a leaf. Chenoa screamed and jumped to her feet, running after the dragon, which had lifted Tristan into the air, clutched in its front right claw. The electric man suddenly appeared behind Chenoa, wrapping his arms around her from behind to restrain her.

"Let me go!" Chenoa cried, struggling to free herself.

While she didn't understand what was going on, Chenoa knew Tristan was in danger. The electric man held tight, seemingly unmovable. No matter how hard Chenoa struggled she could not free herself or move the man. It was as if he were sunken into the ground. There was a flash of bright silver-white light and the dragon roared again. Rising high in the air, the dragon shook its massive head as Tristan appeared on the ground. Enraged, the dragon dived again at him, but this time he held up a hand and the white light seemed to shoot out of it, meeting the dragon in a terrible clash.

"Tristan!" Chenoa screamed. "Tristan!"

Distracted, Tristan turned and saw Chenoa being held by the electric man. This moment cost him greatly as the dragon took it to attack him, slamming Tristan into the ground, pinning his arms to his side as the dragon's enormous front foot trapped him.

"No!" Chenoa shrieked in terror.

Suddenly the electric man spun and seemed to bend Chenoa and him together in a fluid backwards motion as something heavy swung above their head. Blinking, Chenoa saw her father's face, contorted in anger and fear, swinging a heavy bat at the electric man. Throwing Chenoa to the ground, the electric man ducked, dodged, and weaved as Papa Bear continued to swing at him.

"Leave my daughter alone!" Papa Bear roared in rage.

Taking another swing at the man, Papa Bear felt his breath catch in his chest as the electric man didn't dodge this time but rather caught the bat in one hand. The electric man didn't even flinch. Grunting, Papa Bear tried to pull the bat free, but could not. The electric man's eyes shone bright as neon as he wrenched the bat out of Papa Bear's hands.

"Enough!" the electric man said.

Suddenly his wings sprung from his back and he lifted into the air. The air current knocked Papa Bear to the ground and Chenoa scampered to her father to make sure he was okay. The dragon ceased its roaring, though it continued to hold Tristan to the ground. Everyone was staring at the electric man.

"This is enough," the man repeated.

His tattoos and eyes dimmed ever so slightly as he calmed down. Smashing the bat over his knee, he shattered it and let the pieces trickle to the ground. Too stunned to speak, Papa Bear held Chenoa to his chest as if that could protect her.

"Chenoa, it is time to stop this," the man sighed, lowering to the ground.

"How do you know my name?" Chenoa stammered, hugging her father tight.

"I know a great deal of things. I am Ventus Cordis."

Chenoa thought the named sounded familiar as if she had heard it before in a dream.

"You may call me Cor."

"Cor, who are you? What is that?"

With a shaking hand, Chenoa pointed to the dragon, who appeared to sneer at her.

"I am a Ventus, a wind. That is Ursa, your guardian."

"My guardian. If she is my guardian, why is she attacking Tristan?"

"She was protecting you from him."

"He wasn't hurting me."

"Not everyone hurts you physically to help themselves."

"That makes no sense."

"Tristan is a Nonelement."

"He told me."

"That means he feeds off people, especially young girls. If Ursa and I had not intervened, Tristan would have lost control and seduced you, therefore feeding off you."

"What?"

"Nonelements feed off of love and hate, baby girl," Papa Bear sighed, his eyes now on Tristan, who was pinned to the ground. "I am assuming that he kissed you."

Turning bright pink, Chenoa didn't look at her father. Talking about her first kiss with her dad was a total nightmare. She would have rather faced the dragon single handedly. Closing his eyes, Papa Bear groaned.

"Tristan, you promised you wouldn't do that!" Papa Bear yelled to Tristan, who turned his face away from them.

"Why shouldn't he?" Chenoa snapped defensively.

"You need a reason? One, you are fifteen and he's much older than that. Two, you are my daughter and he is my friend. Three, he is a Nonelement, so by kissing you he is feeding off you, which could have led to him taking you away until he had fed all he can off you."

"Tristan wouldn't do that to me!"

"I would, Chenoa," Tristan admitted in humiliation. "Never on purpose, but I can't always control my nature. I am sorry. I would never mean to hurt you."

Stammering Chenoa wanted to say something to correct him, but she could think of nothing. How could Tristan feed off her? How did her father know about all this? And who the hell was Cor?

"I still don't get who you are," she finally growled to Cor.

Cor tucked his wings close to his back and bowed.

"I am Cor, the heart of the winds, mistress. I am here to serve and guide you in your training."

"I don't understand," Chenoa said.

"I will explain everything, Chenoa, but you need to relax and take a few deep breaths," Cor smiled kindly.

"I will if, uh, Ursula…"

"Ursa…"

"If Ursa releases Tristan."

"As you wish, mistress."

Without a word, the dragon lifted her massive claw up just enough for Tristan to disappear. He appeared next to Chenoa and Papa Bear. Shaking himself off, Tristan didn't appear to be hurt in any way.

"Well, that was fun," he sneered, dusting off his clothes.

He still glowed a gently silver white.

"I'd love to stay but my time in this world is up as it is."

In a blink he gave Chenoa a quick kiss on the cheek and disappeared into thin air. Looking around wildly, Chenoa could not see where he went. Papa Bear touched her shoulder gently and, from his expression, she knew Tristan was gone.

"Now that he has left, I think we should get down to the nitty-gritty," Cor smiled, trying to refocus Chenoa.

"Okay…okay…"

"Ursa and I were sent specially to train you in our ways."

"Stop!" Papa Bear interrupted suddenly.

Pushing Chenoa behind him, Papa Bea placed himself between Chenoa and Cor. Blinking, Chenoa looked up at her father and saw his face was still contorted in anger as well as fear. Papa Bear's stance was defensive, and he appeared ready to fight Cor. Cor looked at Papa Bear with skepticism and flexed his wings. Ursa paced closer to them, seeming like a large bodyguard or second defense to Cor, though Chenoa was sure that Papa Bear would be no match for Cor.

"No more! She knows to be careful of Tristan and Nonelements," Papa Bear said sternly. "There is nothing more she needs to know."

"Adrian Rose, you cannot stop us from doing our duty to your daughter," Cor said in a steely voice.

"She is my daughter; therefore, I can do whatever I feel will is best for her."

"And denying Chenoa her destiny is going to do that? Have you forgotten all you learned in your youth?"

"My youth is not going to be hers. I learned and traveled between worlds because it was part of my duty to my tribe, but that life cost me everything!"

"Our world cost you nothing. Tragedies happen, Adrian. It was not something that could be avoided or controlled."

"Couldn't be controlled? You didn't have to offer my wife the ability to have a child without telling us the child would most likely die! You didn't have to tell my wife how to save our child at the cost of her life!"

The whole clearing seemed to go silent. Not believing her ears, Chenoa stared at her father, unsure of what to say. Cor and Ursa glared at Papa Bear with unreadable looks. It was a tense moment as Chenoa tried to figure out what to say.

"Aine was a wonderful and loving person, but she knew what she was doing. Never did we trick her or mislead her. Aine was no fool."

"Aine loved too much and it cost me a wife and my daughter a mother."

"What does Mom have to do with all of this?" Chenoa asked, searching her father's face for an answer.

"Your mother and I could not conceive a child due to some complications. They came and offered to help her conceive through…uh…special means. I was against it, and said we could adopt, but you're your mother wanted to have a child of her own so badly nothing I said dissuaded her.

"Everything was wonderful, and your mother had never been happier but then things went bad again. Because of what they call your destiny, you got very sick when you were little, and we almost lost you. Your mom and I took you to every doctor we could but nothing and no one could help you. Then they came and said that you were special and because you were special, your body was struggling to adjust to some things. That you were going to die."

"What do you mean I was struggling to adjust? To what?"

"Due to their assistance, your body isn't technically 'human.' And your…let's just say, baby girl, you have a very special heart."

"So, what happened? How did I get better?"

His face turned grief-stricken and Chenoa saw his hands start to shake. Pain rung through his body and Chenoa felt guilty for something she couldn't remember.

"Papa Bear, what happened?"

"Your mother loved you soooo much, Chenoa, that she couldn't let you die. So, when they appeared, your mother agreed to do whatever she could to save you."

"What did Mom do?"

"She gave up her body to protect you."

"What?"

"She died, Chenoa. Your mother gave up her life so you could live…thanks to them."

Changing the direction of her gaze, Chenoa let her eyes fall upon Ursa and Cor. Their countenances were serious and stony but with no hint of regret. How could that happen? It didn't make sense. How could her mom's death save Chenoa from dying?

"I don't understand how that is possible."

"Chenoa, what is deemed as magic is merely doing things through pure strength and force of will," Cor spoke this time. "Your mother loved you so much that her will forced death from you to her, sparing you."

"So, Mom died so I could live?"

"Yes, which is why I will not let them back into our lives," Papa Bear snarled. "I will not let them intervene in our lives again. I lost your mom and I will not lose you!"

"Papa Bear…"

"It's not up to you, Adrian," Cor said rigidly. "It is up to Chenoa. It is her life and her powers."

"Powers?" Chenoa piped up, her eyes growing wide.

"Chenoa, you are a Spellbinder," Cor told her in a profound manner.

Papa Bear's grip tightened on his daughter as he closed his eyes to Cor's words as if he could take them back. Chenoa looked at her father and saw the truth on his face. She was a Spellbinder, whatever that meant.

"As I said, Chenoa, you are a Spellbinder, one of the last ones in existence."

"I don't get what that means."

"It means that you were born with such a great will, you have the ability to bend others' narrations to your desire."

"What?"

"Basically, you are what people used to call a witch."

"A witch? So, you are saying I have magical powers."

"That's how humans see it but that's not technically correct. Spells are merely incantations that change the narration of something."

"Narration. That means the story."

"Exactly."

"I can change the story of things. So, what?"

"Chenoa," her father interjected, surprising his daughter. "Have you learned nothing from our culture? Stories are the make-up of everything. They hold tribes and cultures together and break them apart. Nothing is more important in our world than stories."

"The same for our world. Narration is the story that was laid out by the creators for every single thing in existence. That narration is then controlled by the pure will of the creator since we are all given free will," Cor continued.

"Okay, so we all have a story that is laid out for us, but our wills are what makes us follow or not follow the story," Chenoa repeated to show she understood.

"Correct. That is why a tree almost always acts like a tree and a tiger almost always acts like a tiger. Their will is not strong enough to change their story."

"But a Spellbinder does?"

"Yes. Take this an example. See these leaves on the ground. Their story says they were meant to grow and live on the tree then fall to the ground. Yet people with 'magic,' like Spellbinders, can alter that story at the present."

"How?"

"Say you look at a leaf and decide, no I don't want you to lie on the ground. I want you to float in the air or twirl around. That is not its natural story, so you must change it with your will."

"How?"

"Well, most 'magical' creatures must say it out loud to impose their will on others. The stronger they are, the less they need to say. They merely need to think it with the intent."

"Why is thinking it harder than saying it?"

"Words since the beginning of time have held life and will unto themselves. That is why being able to talk is such a significant thing and why animals, who cannot talk, have never possessed 'magic.'"

"And thinking?"

"Thinking a spell is using only your own force of will versus your will combined with the words' will."

Pausing, Chenoa looked at her father, who seemed angry, but biting his tongue. To Chenoa, though, this information seemed overwhelming and confusing. How could someone control things by sheer will alone? How could she have such abilities?

"Okay…even if this is all possible…"

Cor laughed richly and for some reason this comforted Chenoa.

"You question its possibility while you look at me, a man with wings, and a dragon?"

"This could be a dream. I could have never woken up from my sleep and I am imagining all of this."

"Chenoa, baby girl," her father sighed in resignation. "You are not dreaming."

"So, what that I am Spellbinder?" Chenoa restarted the conversation with Cor. "What does that mean?"

"It is important because only about a handful of Spellbinders still exist. They are very rare."

"Why?"

"People were afraid of them and killed them in this realm. In the other realm, people were scared or jealous and killed them. Some killed them for the challenge. Others consumed them to steal their powers. While still others captured and enslaved them to abuse their powers. Spellbinders became almost like endangered creatures."

"Then why have you and Ursa come to guard me as you say?"

"You are special Spellbinder, Chenoa. It's hard to explain why, but I need you to trust me."

Biting her lip, Chenoa looked at the intimidating dragon that watched and waited behind them as they spoke. Searching the dragon's eyes, Chenoa felt as if there was something there, some kindness or intelligence that knew what she was feeling. There was comfort in the dragon's eyes. Refocusing on Cor, Chenoa searched his eyes as well. His eyes, despite their brightness, were calm and warm. Something in his eyes made her feel safe and cared for. Though it made no sense, Chenoa felt she did trust him.

"You don't have to do anything, baby girl," her father interjected quickly. "You can walk away and just live as you are now. I would say I forbid it, but that would be a stupid thing to tell a teenager. I do not want you to. I don't want you anywhere near this. You can tell them no and live a normal, safe life."

"You are wrong, Adrian," Cor shook his head. "By having her pretend not to have her abilities and denying her the chance to train, you are only opening her up to dangers that you can't even imagine."

"She is my daughter and I will protect her."

Adrian and Cor got close to each other's faces. Chenoa's father had his shoulders back in aggression and Cor had his wings unfurled. They were so heated in their argument about Chenoa's future that they didn't even notice Chenoa. She backed away from them and edged away. Something long and cool wrapped around Chenoa's waist and hips. Looking down Chenoa saw Ursa's long tail. Freezing in fear, Chenoa couldn't move as the tail pulled her close to the beast. The large dragon lowered her head and inspected Chenoa with her intelligent eyes. Slowly, Chenoa placed her hand on the scaly tail, s small gasp slipping through her lips as the scales instantly changed to soft short silken fur. Analyzing each other, Ursa and Chenoa forgot about the men arguing behind them.

"No one has asked Chenoa what she wants," Ursa growled in a gravelly voice that sounded like noise vibrating in a cave.

Cor and Papa Bear stopped talking and turned around to look at Chenoa and Ursa. Delicately, Ursa pushed Chenoa's hair back with a talon of her gigantic claw. This time Chenoa didn't flinch. There was something caring and gentle about the dragon. Walking to them, Cor and Papa Bear appeared as if they were embarrassed.

"Ursa," Chenoa said, ignoring the two men. "Did you know my mother?"

"Only a little," she responded honestly.

"Did she regret dying?"

"No, little one. Her spirit smiles on you every day. Even I could see that from my tree."

"Do you think I should be a Spellbinder?"

"It is not something you should or shouldn't be. It is who you are. You can deny it, but it doesn't change who you are. I may not wish to be an intimidating creature, but I am."

"Are you sure I am a Spellbinder?"

"There is no doubt."

"And that I need protection?"

"There are many dangers out there for Spellbinders, especially you."

"Why? Am I that special?"

"It's not about being special, Chenoa. It's about people fearing your powers. You are a unique person, but others make you special by their fears or dreams of you."

"Will you stay by my side forever?"

Ursa blinked as if startled by the question. Her eyes echoed some memory that caused momentary sadness. Then the dragon smiled in her reptilian way and nodded.

"I will stay by your side as long as you want me."

"Okay."

Chenoa laid her hand on top of Ursa's muzzle.

"Forgive me, Papa Bear," Chenoa sighed, not looking away from Ursa.