Timothy and the Dragon Defenders, Part Three
A Short Story from the Archives of A.Z.K.R., author of Tales of Porcelain Thrones: Middle School Edition
[To read Timothy’s adventure from the beginning, click here.]
Once the commotion of a moving dragon—scales against underbrush, plodding, heavy, footfalls, claws scratching against pebbles—all came to a halt, Timothy began to actually hear the sounds of the forest around him. A myriad of bird calls, most of which he didn’t recognize and sounded rather otherworldly, filled his ears. The wind rushed through the tops of strange trees and under it all, a distant melody, akin to a flute, danced with the leaves. The melody grew louder and Timothy looked about in curiosity.
“Who’s playing music in the woods?” He wonder aloud. And will I remember what it sounds like when I wake up? Beside him, Galen’s ears twitched in the breeze. Until he saw them move in this way, Timothy had thought they where some kind of developing horns.
Galen looked in each direction before starting down a path to Timothy’s right. It was faint and covered in soft grasses. Orange and white flowers waved, tickling the companion’s ankles as they headed to the ever swelling song. Then the music suddenly stopped, as did Galen, who then looked at Timothy and did the twitch with his shoulders that Timothy had decided to interpret as a human shrug.
The two stood there, wondering what to do next, when a small man half Timothy’s size materialized in front of them. He was a fawn, Timothy saw, but he had very little hair. Timothy’s thoughts flickerd again to Narnia as he laughed.
“I said I have no time for tea!” Timothy said, half to Galen, half to himself.
The fellow’s pointy hat slipped back on his bald head and flopped to the side. He scowled at the boy and his dragon.
“What are you two doing in my forest?” The little man demanded.
“Walking. It’s not like we knew it was yours. Or, I didn’t know.”
Galen burped.
“Are you here to smash my house?” This question was directed at Galen, who in turn, burped.
“What do you think you’re doing alone with a dragon, boy? Twelve year old civilian and taking such blatant sides in the war?”
“No, we don’t smash houses.” Timothy said. Then eyeing Galen, demurred, “I don’t think. How did you know I was twelve?”
The gnome-fawn-whatever he was, looked him up and down. “You look to be Twelve,” he said dismissively, arighting his hat as he did.
“You raised by Clubs?” He asked Galen.
Burp.
“What are Clubs? What war?” demanded Timothy.
“Clubs, my boy, are big, mean, and blue. They belch the foulest smells, as they are known to eat garbage, and they have a habit of smashing things. I was in fear of my house, based on the noise and smell. I tried to warn you away with my flute, but it seems you don’t understand music messages and came nearer instead. Dragons, however, are less foul. This one must have been raised by a Club Clan. They’re known to hoard dragon eggs under threat.”
“What war?” Timothy repeated.
“No time to discuss politics on the outside. Get in before we’re seen and I’ll give you your belated history lessons, and—well—news.”
“Seen?” Timothy looked around, then up.
“Not you, The dragon. They’re an illegal species in Zentop, by order of Lord Lucius of Romodore.”
He glanced at the dragon’s tatooed wing, and said “Come along Galen, son of Clubbers.”
Galen, of course, answered, with a burp.
[To Be Continued…]
Anakalian Whims 
Timothy and the Dragon Defenders, Part Two | Anakalian Whims said,
January 16, 2026 at 3:45 pm
[…] [Come back next week to learn more about Galen’s world…] […]