The Dragon-taming

Age 17, sweet, lucid

This is a dream I just recalled and I need to put down for all intents and purposes.

I dreamed I was a dragon tamer.  I was part of a group of people who tamed draconian animagi - as in, I worked closely with a human whose soul was part dragon, and their body could transform accordingly.

The dream was rather short, but the premise and sensations I recall easily.  I remember being thrown in the middle of the dream, and I was clinging to the black-scaled neck of a beautiful, majestic creature.  My instructor in the dream was inspecting me to see if my skills were on par.  And I was an exceptional student.

Every single scale, the flex of the dragon's muscles, the warm ridged feeling of its neck, I can recall all of it.  My arms had been gripped around its throat - it was a massive animal, perhaps four or five school buses in length.  I was talking to it and laughing and screaming as it took me through the sky.  It was black with red eyes, and its wings were a crisp and streamlined obsidian colour; it wasn't a very ornate dragon.  A simple reptile with wings, though the curvature of its body and face was very noble and elegant in appearance.  No protruding scales or horns or excess anything, the dragon was streamlined for flight.  He chuckled at me as I clumsily climbed on his back, and felt him transform from man into the magnificent beast that he was, from silken skin to warm mineral scale.

I remember my bare feet digging into its neck, my toes gripping its warm scales.  There was absolutely nothing holding me to the dragon but my own extremities and I clung on to it for dear life.  When it flew up my whole body felt like it was jerking, following the wing beats of the dragon that shook my entire being.  The wind was summery, cold in the atmosphere but definitely not enough to chill.  And when it flew down, all the air was yanked out of my lings, and I lay low on the dragon's neck as he dived through the sky.

It turned left and right and my body veered like it was on a roller coaster.  I listened to the wind whip past us, tuned into fine notes from his wings slicing the air.  His scales flattened on his body when he dived downwards and they rose slightly when he dived upwards; sometimes my fingers were squeezed in those crevices when they flattened, though it didn't hurt in the least.

The sheer atmospheric pressure in this dream is what astounded and impressed me.  I wasn't dreaming of flying; I was flying.  There was simply no dreamlike quality about it.  It was like free falling in mid air, parachuting, something. My chest cavity heaved and my head felt pressured and my hair stung my face and gods, everything felt so good.

We dived in very, very close to the ground, to my instructor.  It was Ms. Muller; I saw her excited face briefly as she waved her arms in one direction, crying out "Turn right!  Right!"

We turned left.  I heard her yell "Good!" and was only confused by this fact when I awoke.

And then he veered.  I eased him into a hover with my hands and a quick, polite command.  He smoothly stopped on the ground and I slid off, watching him as he transformed.  As a man my dragon had olive-toned skin, an angular face and broad body.  He was thicker than the average man, taut and sinewy muscle under his skin.  His hair was black and just a bit long, wild, and his red eyes were friendly.  He grinned at me and I grinned back, knowing we made an amazing team.  When he smiled my heart fluttered.

I wish I never woke from this dream.  I wish my imagination took it further.