The transformation would begin at my elbows. Leathery, dry, and bumpy. It seems like the perfect place for magic to begin since elbows are so often forgotten. Magic begins on the edge of being.
The thin pale skin of humans hardens to a thick bullet-proof scale. Scales iridescently creamy with jagged brown claws instead of human toes. In a multitude of blinks, humanness fades and wings fan out carrying me into the clouds where dragon eyes map a route filled with droplets on the verge of snowflakes, cumulonimbus columns, and rainbow roads.
I am a small dragon. Rarely terrifying to those who see me, but never usually seen.
Humanly, too many grocery bags make me stumble. Dragonly, I can rip a healthy, well-rooted tree from the ground with one paw.
We are a family of mythical creatures that are scientifically unrecognized and humanly feared. Dragon soul dwelling in a human body. Occasionally, they do war with each other. I, myself, have seen my dragon head reaching for my human foot that is still in the process of flesh to scale transformation.
My inner core rumbles dragon courage. Allowing the dragon transformation to occur on my flesh is an exercise of will to yield my human sensibilities to the dragon wildness.
The mixing of dragon spirit with human blood is a rare one and unaccepted by all creatures for its break of traditional separation of blood and spirit. Even more so is it an oddity for a human to survive the first dragon changing because it demands total surrender, and to fight the change midway causes a soul tearing that is irreparable.
Surrender is dragon strength.
What About You?
Do you love dragons? Do you sometimes dream of being one?
Oh my gosh, Barbara, I love this so much! You are a truly gifted writer and you express fantastic thoughts so brilliantly!
Renee, thanks so much for your encouragement! This was a really fun piece to write and was helped along by a conversation with a friend about dragons.