Chapter Text
Chan has done a big stupid and he knows it.
He hadn't meant to fly so far inland as he explored, but it had been day after day of travelling high about the clouds, until the ground beneath him was a mere patchwork of fields and forests, the occasional village or large town surging up from the landscape into the sky. He'd only seen one or two castles in his time flying, but hadn't bothered checking them out, intent on staying as unseen as possible.
But, then the storm had blown in, big black clouds billowing miles high into the sky. Until Chan had, stupidly, flown into them. Being an ocean dragon does not mean he's immune to the storms on land. It's an entirely different situation from big rolling waves to coast on and the howling winds that can spin and twirl you without warning. No, land winds push and pull you, coming from every direction. The rain shifts in sheets and the lightning. Oh the lightning. It crackles and makes the thunder roar in Chan's ears as he tries to fly through the sky. He's not the biggest of his species, not the smallest either, but as the storm continues to worsen he begins to think maybe he should try to land in the dark forest below and take shelter until it blows over.
Until lightning arches across the sky and strikes him across his back, the thunder booming almost immediately after silencing Chan's hearing painfully.
White-hot pain sets his entire body on fire, his wings rendered useless as they seize and he convulses. Chan thinks he might hear the wind whistling through his ears as he falls, but he's not sure, unconsciousness claiming him before he hits the trees.
~~~
Minho eyes the forest warily as he enters it, conscious of the many broken branches and tree limbs scattered up amongst the foliage. Last night's storm had been particularly violent, taking thatching and parts of houses with the wind. They'd gotten lucky with having no injuries, but Minho didn't trust the villagers to not end up injuring themselves while doing repairs. So off to go foraging for herbs for potions and poltices. He needs to restock as it is and it's the perfect excuse to escape from everyone for a few hours. He doesn't mind the village, or else he never would have settled there. But it's when the festivals and other events that have everyone throwing their doors and windows open, scurrying across the streets and village like ants that Minho gets agitated and unwilling to be as friendly with people as he can be.
He likes the solitude of the forest. It's easy to get lost in the easy rhythm of foraging and listening to birdsong. Minho doesn't mind travelling deep into the forest while the sun slowly travels closer to the horizon. He isn't scared of what lurks in the dark when the sun goes down. Most of the village is, typical humans, but it has been a long time since anything has dared show its face to the humans. Ever since Minho had established his prescence in the village, actually. Most creatures of the night were scared of witches, especially ones who were powerful enough to bend the herbs and foliage of the surrounding woodlands to their will.
Minho was one such witch. And the last dark creature to show his ugly face in these parts hadn't left. Gruesome demise, that one. Minho couldn't say he was particularly proud of it, but knowing that he was capable of properly defending his home from malice and ill-will made him feel much more confident in his skills as a witch.
He takes a sudden turn, having already gone far off the beaten path, and finds himself standing in the middle of a streak of trees toppled over. Smashed and broken, the ground torn and churned up as if something heavy had been dragged across the forest floor. The birds are silent here, a mist starting to settle over the area as the sun begins to set and the temperatures drop.
Minho stops and stares at the damage before treading carefully through the mess, following the trail. He tries to read it, sharp eyes beginning to pick up the shiny scales and streaks of blood. The suspicious smell of burnt flesh and singed hair in the air. His ears pick up the silence surrounding the area and his magic notices that any animals are at least a couple miles away, steering clear of the area with trembling fear. The damage abruptly stops and in the center of a massive crater is the body of a young man.
The witch stops and considers the situation for all of a heartbeat. He may be cold, but he isn't heartless. Not completely.
Then sets his basket down and slides down into the crater.
~~~
Getting the dragon home is no easy feat, especially since Minho has to take a roundabout way instead of his usual route directly through the village, never mind how much he weighs. The dragonfolk are sworn enemies of the humans and a large majority of the magic world, have been for centuries. It has truly been a long time since the last war with dragons, not since Minho was a boy many, many decades ago, but he still isn't about to take any chances. His standing with the villagers right now is tenuous at best. It would not be pleaseant to have to uproot and leave and restart somewhere else after having been established in the area for so long.
Personally, he doesn't care either which way. If the dragon is a grouchy beast who threatens to burn the town and everyone with it to a crisp, then Minho will simply knock him out with the strongest potion he has and then have the druids take care of the rest. If the dragon isn't a grouchy beast who threatens to burn the town and everyone with it to a crisp, Minho will just have to hope he doesn't overstay his welcome.
The cats scatter when Minho drags in the body, the patient bed he uses for overnight or longer stays shifting over with a spell to aid Minho in his task and take the burden off of his hands once he lifts the dragon up onto the bed. And then, it's off to work.
He doesn't think he's seen so many splinters in his life, the nature of the dragon's wounds forcing him to meticulously search each of the bloody scrapes and cuts for the little wooden devils. There's a smal bowl filled with them by the time he's finished wrapping and bandaging. Tainted as they are with dragon blood, some would say, Minho still tosses them into the fireplace where a low fire was burning, watching it flare purple, then black, then back to a normal warm yellow and orange.
"Legend has it that dragon blood burns eternally, Soongie," Minho says the orange and white cat perched on the end of the bed, tail swishing as she watches the dragon sleep. "Guess we'll see if that's true."
He swears he hears the fire whisper a note of an old war ballad for a second, but when he turns back to look at it, it just crackles and spits.
~~~
When Chan wakes up, he's staring at a sun-dappled ceiling in an oddly comfortable bed that he doesn't know how he feels about the more he wakes up. The air is so full of magic he can almost see its threads weaving through the air, a faint shimmering and glowing that is flecked with the occasional bright pinprick of colour. It enchants Chan for all of a minute until his view is suddenly invaded by a furry grey face sniffing him curiously.
"Dori, get off the dragon."
The cat, Dori, Chan presumes, meows in protest when she's picked up and placed somewhere else. Then another face enters Chan's view, though this one is more human and definitely not furry.
"Hi," the human says. "How are you feeling?"
Chan hesitates. He attempts a low hum in his throat, satisfied when he's able to produce a sound. The witch looks at him curiously, before realization flickers across his face.
"Oh, that's right. You can't speak."
Chan nods and carefully pulls his hands out from under the blankets, as to not startle the witch, and makes a gesture with his hands.
"Wait, hang on, lemme grab a book-"
The witch disappears out of sight, Chan turning his head to track his movements. A chest is opened and several books and blankets are removed until a thick tome emerges. The witch scurries back over, leaving the mess for later, pulls up a chair, and plops down.
"I'm Minho, by the way. And this is going to be slow going, I'm sorry, I'm rusty on my dragon sign."
Chan's just relieved the witch knows dragon sign.
"Do you want to start with your name?"
I'm Chan, he signs slowly.