Do your characters hijack your story – mine do! as my character takes over in my book. For instance, in my last book of the ‘Fallyn trilogy’, ‘Fallyn and the Sea Dragons,’ I intended the pirate chief to be a bad, sad character, but he was having none of this. He waved his cutlass at me and decided he would be a Johnny Depp type of a person, handsome, charming and charismatic.
Similarly, in my first book ‘Fallyn and the Dragons,’ it started off as a short story I had written for a friend. She had painted a picture of a very proud dragon and I wrote a 500 story for her which included mentioning Fallyn, the dragon rider. Fallyn decided he didn’t want to be just in a short story; he wanted to spread his wings and fly (or at least on a dragon)!
The short story I had written for my friend, is included in the second chapter in the book, and I copy part of the chapter below.
(In the Land of Nashta)
Fallyn stepped into the cave to feed and water the dragons. There were only three now, a mating pair, and Drartica. She was past her prime but she was company for Drana while her mate, Dratho, was hunting for food with her rider, Merin.
The last battle that Outha had with the enemy saw a heavy toll on both sides. Fallyn, as a warrior, had seen many battles, and was much feared by the enemy. Drartica was his favourite mount.
He coaxed Drana to one side with tasty titbits of chicken. There, nestling in the hay, were twelve eggs, although with so many, the young, inexperienced mother had difficulty in keeping them fully covered.
Fallyn stroked the dragon’s neck. ‘Not long now, little mother. Soon you will be able to fly and stretch your wings once the little ones have hatched. Eila and I will see you tomorrow lovely girls.’
The young dragon shifted uncomfortably and rearranged her twelve eggs. One egg rolled, gathering momentum on the sloping floor, and continued rolling until it stopped against the cave wall. The mother gazed at it with her big gold, tired eyes.
Her eyes met those of Drartica, who sniffed the egg, which had rolled near to her. Drartica’s days of nesting had ceased, but she still felt maternal concern towards the abandoned egg. Tentatively, she hooked her wing pinion around the egg and pulled it towards her, one eye on Drana for signs of opposition. There were none. The young dragon looked unconcerned as Drartica scooped the egg under her wing.
The next day when Fallyn and his twin sister, Eila, came to check the eggs, they could only see eleven. Where was the other one? They searched the cave, suspecting the egg had rolled out of the nest. Fallyn noticed Drartica was acting strangely. She had an uncharacteristic unconcerned expression on her face.
‘You know something. I can tell,’ Eila chuckled, stroking her ears.
Drartica knew she could not lie to them, for she loved them dearly. She reluctantly raised her wing, revealing the egg. Her head drooped for she thought the egg would be returned to Drana. To her surprise Fallyn laughed.
‘I guess Mum didn’t want it, eh? You keep it, old girl. We will see what happens when it hatches shall we?’
Drartica could understand the human voice, as did all the dragons. It was with relief she realised the egg wouldn’t be taken from her.
Fallyn and Eila checked all the eggs for fissures, for they knew from experience when these small cracks started to appear, the eggs would hatch within twelve hours. They noticed most of them had hairline fractures in the shells and decided to return to the cave early evening, and ask Merin, their best friend, to accompany them.
Within a few hours all the eggs started to crack open and little shining dragons’ heads emerged; their eyes gleamed like diamonds. As they broke free from the shells they flapped their tiny wings and turned to their mother, cheeping to be fed.
The trio only had to help two of the dragonets that were struggling to discard their shells. One of
them was so tiny that Eila thought she would keep a special eye on him and make sure he received enough to eat. The other was a plump female, who looked too lazy to even try to get out of her shell.
There were five males and seven females. The females followed their mother in colouring and ranged from pale gold to a dark gold. The males were all bronze or brown. Fallyn could not help but smile at Drartica who was so proud of her little male dragonet.
Eila picked a piece of shell from the tiny dragon. ‘What are we going to call them?’
‘I know what to call Drartica’s male.’ Fallyn said.
Fallyn knew that each dragon’s name should start with the letters Dra, but something compelled him to ignore tradition in the case of the little abandoned hatchling.
‘How do you like the name of ‘Solo’ for your baby, Drartica?’ Fallyn enquired, as he stroked her nose.
Drartica nuzzled Fallyn’s cheek in agreement, indicating she was perfectly happy with his choice.
‘I think he will grow up to be the bravest of all the dragons.’