Each Sunday, Alastair supplies a photo from his collection for us to write a piece of fiction, poem, or whatever inspires you up to 200 words. If you’d like to join in, wander on over to Sunday Photo Fiction. Click on the little blue froggy thingy to leave a link to your post and read what others have written. My story starts after the picture.
“You know what it is?”
Lewis nodded, his eyes growing rounder as the dragon moved closer to their hiding place. “The Red Dragon. I thought he was just a myth—my Gran told me about him when I was a little boy.”
“Not very big is he…” the scorn in Gareth’s voice obvious, “for a vicious killer I mean.”
“He’s not a vicious killer. He’s a protector; our protector—Wales’ protector.”
The dragon stopped and sniffed the air; moving his head slowly from side to side. A low growl grew steadily until the dragon raised his snout, and a ball of fire erupted, melting the rocks that hid them.
“Lewis Blevins,” the dragon’s voice rumbled, “you will soon come into your destiny and become a true Bleddyn.” He lowered his head until it barely brushed the top of Lewis’s head and Lewis felt the dragon’s warm breath flow over him.
I’m going to die! But when Lewis opened his eyes, the dragon had vanished, Gareth was nowhere in sight and at his feet lay a sword and shield.
Author’s note: The name Blevins is derived from the Welsh given name Bleddyn which meant “wolf cub”. Y Ddraig Goch means The Red Dragon.