All tagged Mary
“... And that is why General Hawk was the greatest soldier who ever lived and will be remembered by us forever.”
A soldier of General Hawk’s Fifth Flying Regiment had spoken for a couple of minutes and now he was finally wrapping it up.
“Thank you,” Justin says. “We have one more thing to do before we can say goodbye.”
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“For many days, now, and perhaps weeks or even months, your mind will return to that moment when you killed the Goblin Monster. It will return to it and try to find another way, another solution, another path. Maybe it will succeed, maybe it won’t.”
“There was no other path, General Hawk.”
“Maybe it will succeed, maybe it won’t,” the general repeated, not conceding her point. “It would not matter, for it is done. Your mind will return to the terrible emotions you are feeling now again and again and again. For weeks and even months. And perhaps… Perhaps your feelings will turn to hate of self, hating what you did. And then… in the future, the next time you kill, it will be easier. And that time after that, easier still.”
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“Say, Joy,” Mary said. “Do you know what you want to be when you grow up?”
I did not see Dragon Little’s expression.
“How about… a policewoman?” tried Mary.
I saw Dragon Little shake her head.
“A… firefighter?”
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“Mary, we’re going off to the weapons shop!” Dragon Father waved at Mary. “Come on, Joy, wave at Mary.”
“Bye bye, Mary!”
Dragon Little was only 2 years old, and was teetering between being unable to do anything and being a budding warrior, sometimes the one, sometimes the other.
“Aw, look at you all excited to go and buy new weapons!” Dragon Little’s nanny clasped her hands together. “Enjoy!”
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It was still the same day. Dragon Father had disappeared early into his waking world. Mary and Dragon Little had begun to talk about dreams. Mary shared her dreams and nightmares and Dragon Little shared her belief that she did not dream or have nightmares.
Mary had tucked Dragon Little in again, and 2-year-old Dragon Little was lying down, facing the wall and the window.
Mary closed the curtain. “Good night, lass,” she said and my sharp dragon ears heard her walking towards the cabin door.
“Does Dad dream, Mary?”
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“The bad dreams, dearie, are called ‘nightmares’,” Mary began.
It was still the same day. Dragon Father had disappeared early into his waking world. Mary and Dragon Little had begun to talk about dreams, and Mary had shared her dreams with Dragon Little.
Now she was about to share her nightmares.
“In my nightmares…” she began. “I am walking in a big city… I’m not sure where. Certainly nowhere I’ve ever been.”
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At the end of 2-year-old Dragon Little asking Mary what dreams were, Mary decided to tell her about some of her own dreams.
Mary ist a dream, of course, created by Dragon Father in his dream. Unlike Mary, Neither I nor Dragon Little were born in his dream. I did always wonder how he found her and how he saved her from the monsters that were no doubt looking for her. But I do not dare ask him, for it will lead to too many things I am too fearful from
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It was the very next day after 2-year-old Dragon Little couldn’t sleep because of a monster under her bed.
The next day’s adventure was cut short again, as Dragon Father disappeared early in the adventure, and all the villains did as well. Dragon Little had nothing else to do but to return to Bonny’s Revenge and play with Mary until she was tried.
Mary tucked Dragon Little in.
But it seemed that Dragon Little remembered what Mary had said the previous night.
“Mary, what’s a dream?”
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Dragon Little was two years old when I first heard her talk about a monster under the bed.
I was new to her father’s dream, having only arrived and rescued a few weeks ago, so if it had happened before, I would not know.
Dragon Father had disappeared when the bad guys were already defeated, as he did most of the time when she was that age. But he had also disappeared too early to tuck his daughter in.
Mary, still alive at the time, waited for the adventurers aboard Bonny’s Revenge. As usual, she asked Dragon Little about her adventure, got Dragon Little to take off her clothes and wear her pajamas, tell her a story, and tucked her in.
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It was only a few weeks after Dragon Little and Dragon Father rescued me. Dragon Little, I would find later, was only two years old, and I was still getting used to the fact that these two lived a life of adventure every day.
They had thought me gone, but I was there, watching them every day from afar and from above, learning who they are, learning that their intention was honest and good, and learning to fall in love with the girl I lovingly called my Dragon Little.
Dragon Little had a wooden sword in her hand, that her father told her was a steel sword. It was a good thing, too, since she would have occasionally cut herself with it.
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I carried Dragon Little on my head as we flew back to Bonny’s Revenge.
The pirate ship she lived on was resting on the ocean under the two suns, where we had left it. I came to a stop in the water right next it, careful not to case even a wave that would stir the ship.
I leaned my head forward and 3-year-old Dragon Little, the girl her father called Joy, walked across my nose, and leapt unto the deck.
“That was fun! Let’s do it again!” she said.
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I swooped down on Bonny’s Revenge, my wings spread wide and coasting on the wind that ist only there when Dragon Father ist in the Dream.
It had been a while since I had flown, and it has been less than a year since I had been freed by Dragon Father and Dragon Little and could fly on my own.
We were not yet good friends, back when Dragon Little was only 3 years old, but I loved her deeply, and in my heart I called her ‘Dragon Little’ instead of Joy Shelley.
My heart leapt at coming out of my hiding place, at meeting Dragon Little and talking to her. I could not wait to ride together when she was older.
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They both ran outside her cabin and onto the deck of Bonny’s Revenge.
“Ta-daaaah!” Dragon Father said, gesticulating at the mast.
But Mary wasn’t there, only the mast and an empty deck.
“Dad,” her voice was soft, “where is she?”
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Dragon Father appeared on the deck of Bonny’s Revenge while Dragon Little was asleep. The universe above him and around him came to life. Wind was once more in the air, and stars twinkled in the sky.
He looked around, and suddenly smiled.
He walked to Dragon Little’s cabin. She was almost three years old at the time, and it has been only a few months since her nanny, Mary, died in a battle.
Dragon Little did a little dance as part of their game, and Mary clapped for her.
Dragon Little ran to her and fell into her bosom. “Aw, my sweet pirate Joy,” Mary said warmly. “You are truly a Joy.” She caressed her head and let Dragon Little come out to look at her. “Say… Do you know what Joy means?”
Dragon Little shook her head.
“Joy means happiness. But a lot of happiness. A lot. Your father gave you your name because you make him happy, really happy. And I think also because you’re happy, lass. Aren’t you happy?”
“Yes!”
Dragon Little danced a bit more. Then she said, “What’s the meaning of ‘Dad’?”
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All that I have told you before in the last few days about Dragon Little’s dehydration, the lack of water, and how Mary, the nanny who would soon be dead, tried to help Dragon Little - all that ends here. Because what Mary did the next day and each and every following day of her short life - what she did saved Dragon Little’s life.
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“Mary, is she still asleep?” he shouted, all full of vigor and success.
“Yes, sir.”
“That’s ridiculous! Wake her up! I’ll wake her up!” he immediately said, rushing past Mary. “Joy! Wakey-wakey! Time’s a-wasti--” and with that, he disappeared.
Mary went into Dragon Little’s cabin. I heard her gasp. “The water! Where’s all the water?!”
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“These were not there before,” Mary said firmly in her soft voice. “There was no water to drink! The lass was thirsty!”
“Mary, you’re being silly. You just need to look better. Everywhere you look there’s water on this ship.”
He was right. But she was also right, for he had just created all the water when she mentioned it. But he did not know that, for he did not seem to know he was in a dream and that he was the dreamer.
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Mary walked around the deck, searching for previous bottles of water. But every bottle she found was empty of water.
“Mary,” two-year-old Dragon Little almost cried. “I’m thirty.”
“I’m sorry, lass, there isn’t any water around,” she said with true sadness. “We will need to ask your father to fetch water when he returns.”
Mary was clearly speaking slowly and with trepidation. She knew that Dragon Father usually comes fourteen hours more or less after he disappears. And he had only just disappeared.