Zaǐ Lóng - Young Dragon

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Shalamar Ovanisse

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Linda
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10 3/4 maple with core of unicorn hair
Zaǐ L?ng - Young Dragon

<r><FONT font="Times New Roman"><s></s><COLOR color="#5a70b3"><s></s>Shalamar walked out of the Great Hall with more pep in her step than usual, her vacation home had been more enlightening than what she had ever imagined it to be. Something was not quite right and she still had to find out why her mother had not pressed the issue of her arranged marriage as much as she had on previous visits. Had it been because Shalamar had owned to caring for someone else? She thought this highly unlikely but there was a definite change in the air regarding this marriage to Lee Shang. <br/>
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Looking about her she thought she saw Artemis heading towards the dungeons and smiling decided to head after her. She had not had much chance to speak with her since the new term had started. There was so much to say but Shalamar was not sure how she would say it. She was still pretty new to the friends game after all. Picking up her pace she headed in the direction of the stair well that led down to the dungeon and the Slytherin House. <br/>
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It was only at the top of these steps did she allow her thoughts to drift to Henric Lee, she cast them quickly from her as her shoulder began to niggle her slightly. It had started doing that early this morning and she could not imagine why. It was slowly turning in to an irritating itch that she badly needed to scratch but etiquette insisted she not do so in public. Instead she bore the mild discomfort with grace as she headed down the stairs after her friend.<e></e></COLOR><e></e></FONT></r>
 
Artemis worried her hands together, moving deep into the bowels of the castle. She rarely came into the gloomy dungeons where water liked to leak down the crevices and drip on one's head at an inconvenient time. Her hate for this area was second only to the Charms Classroom, where she was famed to go into miniature panic attacks every time she drifted near. Somehow her nerves had only increased, if not doubled. How was Henric's training not working? If anything, her fear grew daily. She'd not seen Jareth since the holidays where her mother had taken her home immediately. Guest? Never. Art was stuck at home with her sisters and brother, missing Gregory and most of all, missing Jareth. It had been a terrible, depressing holiday.

She'd left Alex with a broken sternum later that week at the Hospital Wing. If that wasn't enough, her shame at being caught out at her first monthly bleeding was even more mortifying than anything she had ever experienced. Artemis was working her way up to some sort of breakdown. Perhaps if I was taller than I wouldn't be so fragile, thought Art, her shoulders drooping under an invisible weight. Jareth was the only one who made her feel big; unconquerable. To see his face again...she would never fret again. With a jolt, she finally noticed the soft footsteps of someone behind her, and just as she sat herself on an empty desk, there entered another person that she was so longing to see. "Oh, Shalamar..." sighed Artemis as she despaired of her mood, but berated herself instantly. "It's lovely to see 'ye!" she exclaimed instead, though her fingers continued to worry at her tiny silk kimono.
 
Continuing down through the dungeon she soon saw her friend slip into a room and hastily followed her there. Her smile remained as she approached and only then did she see the face of her friend and seemed to know that something was not right, her own became instantly crest fallen.
"Artemis, what is wrong?" she sat down beside her friend and waited for a reply, anything to help her understand her friends obvious distress. The itching in her shoulder increased greatly and she swiveled it as if to rid herself from the annoyance it was fast becoming. She was very tempted now to remove her sleeveless sweater and blouse and scratch it until it itched no more but she took a deep breath instead and rose above it. There were more pressing matters than her shoulder to deal with.

"Artemis?" she repeated her friends name as she placed her slender hand on hers.
 
"Oh, don't 'ye fuss about me at all," said Artemis with her face as bright as a button. She was no actor, but she did have control of her body, and her cheeks filled with a rosy blush that washed her pallor away entirely. It would not be able to be maintained for long, but just enough so that she might try to convince her friend of her well being. To compensate for the differences in their hands size, Art placed Shalamar's hand between the two of hers. "What are you lookin' so forlorn for, I'm alright! Tell me what ye've been up to, I can see ye're dying to talk about it." Characteristically, her English accent became thicker in her deceit, but she merely strengthened her resolve in retaliation. There was nothing wrong with her life in comparison to others. So I mustn't complain! she stormed inwardly.

Yet slowly her shoulders were drooping again, and her head was bending under the non-existent pressure of worry. "Just a bit tired, really." mumbled Art, nodding as though that would help to convince her. "Now 'ye tell me what's been going on. You look quite happy, I imagine!". She patted her cheeks to try and warm them again, but she grew paler, and instead began to fan herself. "Hot, isn't it?" laughed Art. It was all mindless babbling of course, but would it be enough to distract Shalamar?
 
With every word her friend spoke it seemed to Shalamar as if she were covering something up but she did not know what. She had been clearly upset about something earlier and now was down playing it but why? Because Shalamar had looked happy? Was it such a rare occurence to see her smile? Shalamar thought about it for a moment and knew she must have been going around like a love sick fool for the past few months but she was ok now. Really, she was at least she kept convincing herself she was.

"I told my mother that I cared for someone other than the boy Lee Shang that they want me to marry. She listened to me, it may not seem like very much but my mother seemed so different this vacation towards me" Shalamar smiled again at the memory of her mother reaching out to her, to try to build some bridge between them where they could meet on neutral territory. Albeit the bridge was so far badly built and needed a lot of work but it was still a beginning in her view.

"We are not the talking type my mother and I" she explained as the uncomfortable itch slowly became heated as if someone was now lighting a match to her shoulder. Closing her eyes for a moment to see if meditating the pain somewhere else would work she stopped after a moment, she would need lots of patience for that.
"Yes it is very hot" she concured with her friend and then to distract herself from the pain she looked at her hand in Arts two, "please my friend, tell me what ails you?"
 
Now Artemis finally felt it; the wave of calm that radiated off Shalamar in waves rolled over her finally, and her slightly trembling hands stilled. Shalamar probably had no idea of the effect she had on tiny Art, but her sweet nature drew Art to her like a moth to flame. She listened quietly, and was heartened by her story. Did this mean that her mother was becoming more than just sympathetic to Shalamar's plight? Was she finally beginning to understand? How Artemis wished that this would be so. Focusing on other people's problems was a very good distraction from her own, and she no longer needed to fan her face as the last of the jitters faded.

Art smiled, finally with a genuine sparkle and looked quite excited. "This could be the beginning of a change in your life," said she without thinking. "Oh, I... I hope it turns out to be a good one," she added sheepishly. The spell was broken once more when Shalamar asked about her. To her horror, she found herself tearful, and she swallowed and patted her eyes like a mother would who did not want her child to see her crying. It was the last thing her friend needed the see. "Nothing is wrong, darling." Artemis said, using a term of endearment common within her family. "Ye'll have to excuse me. I'm not myself as 'ye can see." Artemis was so terribly tired of feeling this way without a good reason, so she hoped that by explaining as bets she could to Shalamar, that it might reveal some things to her at the same time.

"I have been trying to work through a fear of people in these past few weeks. I've always been the nervous type, what with everyone being so much bigger than I, but it has grown almost unbearable since then and I can't think why. Henric," she began, looking at her friend, "-has suggested that I deal with this so that I might continue training with him, but it has only gotten worse to the point of being uncontrollable." Art looked at the dull grey floor, trying not to cry. "And I miss Jareth."
 
Shalamar was grateful for her best friends kind words and could not help but smile then at the sudden realization that she did indeed have a best friend. She glanced at Artemis who seemed all excited at Shalamars news. The girl was positively contagious as Shalamar smiled back but it seemed so infinitely brighter than before.
"I am glad I found you to tell you" the smile quickly fled again as tears now found their way down her friends face. She watched as Artemis patted them dry. Not saying a word she allowed her friend to recover her composure before Artemis began to speak. Shalamar put her hand this time around her shoulder to comfort her. The mention of Henric's name in the midst of her friends anguish rocked Shalamar unsteadily, but she took a deep breath. Willing herself not to be phased by the boy any longer. Though her heart knew it was impossible, still in her possession was the cloak that he had placed over her the night of the Yule Ball. If he wanted it he could ask but until then she kept it, kept it very close. Shrouding herself in it at night to aid her dreams of him better. Fool, she chided, you are not over him and never will be with such hopeless actions.

She turned to Artemis as the pain in her shoulder doubled in intensity, wincing sharply she made an attempt to ignore it but in vain.
"Artemis, he is right. You must conquer this fear. I have my own of heights. A phobia that goes by the term vertigo, Henric too has made strides to help me fly while attempting to overcome this" it pained her to say his name but she felt now that it was like walking on hot coals. She would absorb the pain, wishing then that she could do the same with the agonizing pain piercing her shoulder.

"Where is Jareth?" her voice was low as she asked this of her friend, it was clear that the boys absence was upsetting her greatly. It was then that Shalamar could take no more and shot straight up from the desk pulling the sleeveless sweater from over her head and clawing at her left shoulder.
"It won't stop burning" she called out in agony, hastily undoing the buttons of her blouse and stripping herself of the garment. She wore a silk camisole underneath and its delicate thin straps allowed complete visibility of the birthmark on her shoulder shaped like a dragon. It seemed to be scorching her skin.

Shalamar face screwed up against the pain, her right hand trying to reach around to touch the mark. Her gaze fell to the broken mirror in the classroom press and she turned to look, only then realizing for the first time that the pain came from her birthmark. A look of confusion now mingled with everything else as she gripped the desk tightly, another wave of pain engulfing her as the mark burnt deeper.
 
Artemis listened carefully as one did to someone you know offers good advice. The two girls were leaning on each other for support, not physically but mentally, and they truly did know how to help each other. But most of all, Art was struck with the revelation of Henric's steadfast aid to them both. She had always had a nagging suspicion that she was no more than an irritation to the handsome and aloof boy, yet how could this be so if he continued to help her? Art had her reasons and he had his, she was sure. She smiled, thinking of how he was heard to treat Shalamar. He feels for her, thought Artemis as she smiled a secret smiled to herself. To Shalamar she became serious, and nodded in earnest.

Shalamar was right. She had to conquer this fear before it consumed her. Her friend suffered from vertigo, but what did Art suffer from? Everything, she thought in despair. Perhaps she had some sort of anxiety problem, and that wouldn't help her to sort this out at all. How could one battle fear if one feared everything, whether you faced your fear or not? The little girl shook her head to clear it, and focused on Shalamar's next question. "Jareth is... I'm not sure. I've not heard from him since the holidays-" she began, but was stopped by the other Ravenclaw's cry of agony. Artemis let go of her hands immediately and fell back in shock. Within moments, it became clear what was paining her, and Art stared at the fiery mark on her shoulder that was causing such pain to her friend.

Her Healer's instincts took over immediately, and without a word she slipped off the desk and pulled out her wand. There was no cloth but for Shalamar's neatly pressed uniform shirt, and she was loathe to destroy it. Instead, she gritted her teeth and aimed the tip of her wand at her own hands. "Tespesco Curatio," she said firmly. "Ow, ooh!" she said a moment later as stinging cold shot directly into her palms. Wincing, Art directed a second spell at her opposite palm, and clambered onto the desk to place two cool hands on the burning mark. "I'm sorry, but I don't know what else to do," said Artemis in a calm, soothing voice. "Better, or worse? Do tell me, and don't move around too much. I will get help if you need it." This is what her father did in St. Mungo's when someone was in pain and in a panic. Her voice was a perfect mimicry of his. "Are 'ye alright? 'Ye have to tell me."
 
Shalamar heard the strange words that her best friend uttered, not once but twice. She looked in alarm as Artemis came towards her with hands that now seemed unbearably cold.
"What .. what have you .. done?" she asked her, Artemis going through pain for her was not what she needed or would ever want. The smaller girl placed her hands on Shalamars shoulder and she cried out in pain. The stinging of cold on hot was too much and she slumped forward as waves of convulsions shook her slight frame.
"Wor...wor..worse" she stuttered through the cold hands on her unbearably hot birthmark.
After a few minutes the shaking stopped and she was able to move so that she would not feel the cold hands any longer but was now more concerned about her friend than the pain she was experiencing.

"Artemis, your hands? Are... you" she arched her back as another flash of fire seemed to ignite across the dragon like birthmark "Please.. do..don't leave me" Shalamar could not bare if Artemis left her to get any type of help but at this point she figured her friend might need it more than her.
"It..it's never..do..do..done this be..before" she stuttered as the pain threatened to overwhelm her. For some reason the only crazy thought that emerged from her consciousness at that time was how grateful she was that Henric was not here and how truly grateful she was that Artemis was, cold hands and all.

She slumped over a near by table gripping it as if she could squeezed all her pain into the edges she held so tightly.

In her homeland there was equal commotion as her grandmothers dragon, a great beastly Chinese firedragon laid its first ever egg. Her grandmother smiled as the searing pain in her own birthmark similar in many aspects to Shalamars stopped burning. She knew that in New Zealand her granddaughter was going through an experience close to walking through hell but she was too far away from her to do anything to help. There was only one thing she could do and that was to write to her and try to explain what had happened. How every second generation in her family, a daughter was born with a birthmark resembling the great dragon. Each girl was given the task of training a dragon and as the grandmother looked over towards where her own magical creature cowered protectively over its egg, she smiled. Jeon was soon to take up her role as a dragon keeper, there would be no arranged marriages for her that was for sure.
 
"Yikes!" said Artemis involuntarily, whipping her hands off Shalamar's shoulder immediately when told the pain was only getting worse. It was a basic rule of medicine; when overheated, apply cold and when overly cold, apply heat. Occasionally during a fever it was the other way around as the sufferer could not often tell the difference between the two, but as it was Artemis knew she had done the right thing, even if it had not worked at all. Now all she had to contend with was her burning hands that she did not regret in the slightest. She could not offer any further help to Shalamar, and the choice was between leaving to seek help and staying to monitor her status. "Oh blast," she commented to her now-bleeding hands where the iciness had cracked her palms. By the sounds of it, her friend was having a worse time of it, and Art had experienced great pain than this in her life, so she simply tucked her hands underneath her body to warm them again and shuffled closer to Shalamar comfortingly.

"Shh, you sit tight. I ain't going anywhere." said Artemis seriously and she wriggled on her hands to staunch the bleeding. Her own shoulder touched Shalamar's opposite of her birthmark in a gesture of reassurance. The comfort was short lived when the girl slumped onto another desk in her pain. Artemis could smell her own panic rank through the air, but she did not give in. Instead, she moved from her own desk to take up Shalamar's abandoned blouse and folded it carefully to slide it under her friend's head. To her frustration, the white cotton was speckled with blood, and she was not game enough to take up her wand and try to scourge it off with her hands bleeding like a stuck pig over everything. "Bugger." said Artemis.

Far from wishing that Henric Lee was not there to see this sight, Artemis found herself wishing he was there. She knew in her heart that their situation could not be solved without a third hand, and if anyone was capable and worthy, Henric was. She lay the back of her hand on Shalamar's side, the only place she could reach. "You are going to be okay," she said softly, and closed her eyes.
 
[permission was granted ;) ]


Danny had just been to speak with Professor Mercer when walking along the dungeon floor he heard some serious commotion. Curiosity got the better of him and he went in the direction the voices came from. Opening a door he looked on as Shalamar and some girl even smaller again seemed in varying degrees of pain.
"What's going on here?" his wand was out instantly as he approached them, his other hand out as if to indicate he was here to offer some sort of help. His eyes drifted to Shalamar, she was still very beautiful, he hadn't spoken to her or had a chance too since the Yule Ball. Had a serious apology to make to her as well. Thinking at last he could redeem himself Danny moved closer.
 
Shalamar could only smile now as her friend brought something for her to lean her head on. She had passed the point where the pain bothered her, she was numb from it. Hearing words as if they were in the distance, her mind was closing itself off to protect it from the level of pain that ravaged her shoulder. Artemis was here, she was certain of that much and she felt no need to panic because of this. Her best friend would not abandon her and yet, Artemis was in need of assistance. Shalamar wanted to lift her head, move herself to look at her. To tell her to get help for herself, that she had been selfish and wrong.

From somewhere she heard a voice and though she thought she recognized it, her mind began to drift even more. There was another voice, closer, deep inside her. It seemed to soothe her.
"...think of butterflies, birds, or whatever flying creature your love" it was his voice. She wanted to laugh, to tell Artemis that she was now hallucinating but didn't dare for fear the voice would leave her. She was so used to his coming to her rescue that when he didn't her own mind conjured him for her. Shalamar tried to remember what she had thought of that day on the quidditch pitch when he had spoken those words to her. She had thought of him. It had worked to help her concentrate then perhaps focusing on him right now could help again.

Her knees buckled momentarily and she fell to them, loosening her grip on the table allowing them to slide down the legs of the desk instead and hold there. The cold metal on her hands seemed most welcome compared to when the cold hands of her friend had touched the flaming mark on her shoulder. She tried to remember the stories her grandmother had told her when she was younger, they couldn't be true. They couldn't. They were childrens stories, ones her brothers loved but had preferred it if the hero of the stories had been a boy and not a girl.
 
Artemis had been begging for help inwardly, but when help came she revolted without thinking. This boy meant danger for some reason. Perhaps it was his manner, and the way he took his wand out without thinking and did not ask if they were alright. He asked what was going on as if some sort of crime had been committed. Like tiny lion cub protecting its fallen mother, Artemis shifted and placed herself in between Danny and Shalamar with her palms facing outward as if to ward him off. It was apparent that she was under stress and not thinking properly, but it was still a slightly unnerving sight as the three foot-two goblin girl bared her teeth.

She spared a glance behind her to see Shalamar practically incensed and non-responsive to her touch. Best to leave her alone for the moment, thought Artemis with a firm nod. She second guessed this notion almost immediately as Shalamar slipped to the floor with the bars of the desk gripped between her fingers. Now Art had to turn her attention back to the boy who was apparently waiting for her to speak. She had to say something to pacify him, yet she did not want him around. You must accept help, Arty. This is not about personal feelings! she told herself, and dug her nails into her palms though it caused her great pain. It hurt terribly, but hopefully she would regain her senses because of it. "My friend is ill." said Artemis to Danny, with every word sounding like it was being pushed through a sieve.

Danny had moved closer and Artemis moved back, shielding Shalamar from view. "Perhaps you could find someone to help us," Which was another way of saying 'Go away.' Oh, what are you saying, Shalamar needs him! "Shalamar, you must say something." said Artemis in a tense tone. "You must say that you are alright, I do not know what to do anymore!"
 
Danny watched as the really short girl seemed to block his way. What was up with her?
"Look I know Shalamar" he told her, neither of the girls seemed ok in his view but he was so not equipped for two poorly females. The smaller girl wanted him to get help and that seemed the best thing at that point. There was nothing else he could do anyhow, most especially as he watched Shalamar slide down the table legs. He frowned, had they taken something?

"Right" he said almost to himself, "help! I'll go and get someone. Just just stay put. Don't move. I'll be as quick as I can".

He took a deep breath and headed back out the door. Looking up and down the corridor he wondered just who he could get. Professor Mercer would have been his first port of call but he had left in the opposite direction the same time Danny had left his office. A nurse seemed the safest option then. As fast as his legs could carry him, Danny ran to the hospital wing. Determined to do the right thing this time and maybe getting the girl after all.
 
"Yes ... I'd assume your friend is ill. She is pale, sweating, and shaking ... I believe those are symptoms of being ill; was there a need to spell that out, Miss Blackmoore-Yearling?"

The musical voice sounded ridiculously carefree and cheerful in a situation quite so serious. Henric Lee trudged down towards the group from the opposite direction of the dungeons, a deck of cards in his hands shifting from one hand to the other as he repeatedly shuffled them and sent them spiraling across the air neatly. "I believe she's in trouble..." The pale boy chuckled, clasping all the cards together in one open palm with a flourish and a snap. "Hello Shalamar, Artemis, and ... Gentleman with his wand out... Running off..."

Henric flashed a charming smile at the retreating figure of Danny, then bowed his head to view Shalamar. "Quite a situation we have here... What have you been doing, mhm, Shalamar?" The boy asked softly, running a pale hand over her forehead and brushing her her out of the way as he checked her temperature. He proceeded to check her pulse, feel her muscles, and finally reached into his robes and pulled out a brown pill specked with golden dust. He canted his head slightly as he held the pill to her lips and murmured, "This should look familiar to someone from China..."
 
Artemis stared after Danny as he charged out of the room in order to 'get help'. "Oh, brilliant." said Artemis in a deadpan voice. Half a moment later she nearly leaped out of her skin as a serpentine voice seeped to drip down the eaves of the room. Henric Lee had arrived. "Yer timing is impeccable, and yer talent for stating the obvious is ever growin' I see, Mr Lee." Artemis told him in a voice highly strung with sarcasm and stress. She could only shake her head in bemusement for the lad took control of the situation seconds after entering, a talent few people could ever hope to achieve.

For some inexplicable reason, she wanted desperately to beat Henric off Shalamar with her fists. Danny was danger, but Henric was a natural disaster just waiting to happen in her mind. To compensate for her shattered nerves, Artemis moved back entirely to the other end of the room, worrying at both fists with her nails and letting Henric do the healing. For one thing, she could no longer touch Shalamar with such ruined hands, and for another she also believed that her friend would infinitely prefer the hands of her handsome beau to hers. Her grinding teeth could be heard audibly and she fretted and fretted ever more over Shalamar's state. But she did not move.

A pill. Art raised her eyebrows. That birthmark there is a magical wound, and it's pretty easy to tell so. That pill better have some darn good additives, or it will do as much good as my icy hands. she thought as she observed. "That better work...or I'm stringing you up like a pirate's undies, Henric Lee." said Artemis under her breath. Oh Shalamar...please be well.
 
Shalamar sighed contented at last, the pain was just an obstacle for her mind to work through and it had chosen Henric of all things to help her do that. She felt the gentle pressure of his hands on her skin as if he were checking her, touching varying parts of her which felt cool and fairly normal to the touch. The only part of her entire body that was heated was the area on her left shoulder and her heart.

She could only smile at how vivid her mind had conjured him. He was so beautiful, a weakened arm reached up as he tried to put something to her mouth. Her cool gentle fingers touched his face as she smiled through the daze and confusion. She could say what she wanted now, her mind was protecting her in more ways than one. As her fingers made contact with his flesh, trailed across his cheek Shalamar considered what her dark angel had said.

She hadn't been doing anything, she hadn't. That was her problem, she never did anything. Always well behaved but still capable of getting herself into dangerous scrapes. As her fingers fell from his face they knocked against his hand. Her face turned slightly, her eyes trying to focus. Her mind scrambled to break through, Artemis! she was not well. She needed her, had hurt herself because of Shalamar. A slight groan as she tried to sit upright but the beautiful image before her barred her way.

"I love you but you must go now" she whispered dazed and confused convinced that the image she had conjured of him would disappear as surely as it had appeared, "need to help... Artemis". Her voice was little over a whisper as her body attempted to move again but the pain had taken its toll for now, and all she could do was stay where she was.
 
His lips twitched in mild reaction to her words. Henric Lee tilted his head, his tempest gray orbs sparkling with amusement for a moment before the sparks of emotion died away, stifled ruthlessly as soon as they had shown themselves. "No, Shalamar, we must go now." Slipping his arms under her body, Henric lifted Shalamar up as easily as he would a sack of feathers, and placed her on his shoulder in as comfortable a position as you could get on a person's shoulder.

As he walked past the cold dungeon floor like nothing had transpired, he held out an inviting hand to Artemis, "You too, darling; let the Nurses take a look at you while they look at her." The pale boy tilted his head slightly and gave her a warm, if artificial, smile.
 
Artemis fixed a stern but approving look onto Henric and dropped her wrist into his palm so as to not brush her cracked skin. "They're just hands. I can treat them just fine. But I'm more worried about Sparrow, here." she told him as she skipped to keep up with Henric's pace as they moved out of the doorway. Sparrow suddenly seemed to be an entirely appropriate term of endearment towards Shalamar, and Art resolved to think of her as such from now on, whether she approved of it or not. Her face was blanched white with nerves but she continued steadfastly beside them both, and reached over to touch Shalamar's hair every now and then in a gesture of comfort to herself and to her friend.

"Oh, why didn't I think of carrying her!" she burst out suddenly, before falling silent in embarrassment. Artemis could still carry a girl of Shalamar's size easily enough, even with the cold-bitten hands. See, that's what panic does to your system, thought Art clinically, and turned her eyes from Henric to straight down the corridor.

Soon enough, the hurried pair rounded the bend to face the flight of stairs leading into the higher levels and towards the Hospital Wing. "Don't call me darling again," muttered Artemis. "Shalamar?" she probed into a quiet, gentler voice. "Shalamar, Henric and I are taking you to the Hospital Wing. I am quite fine, but don't you fuss about much. Nearly there,"
 
She heard his voice again, could see the vision of him almost as clear as day and smiled as he said her name. Her body felt suddenly as if it were floating, though at the same time she felt strong arms around her. For the briefest of moments reality broke through sharp and hard, cold and painful. The birthmark that had once been just a slightly deeper shade to the rest of her skin was now flaming red as if a hot iron brand had been placed there. The hazy outline that had always resembled a dragon now could not be mistaken any longer. It seemed to visibly roar on her skin. She called out in pain one last time and in that same instant became distinctly aware that she was no longer on the floor but across someones shoulder. One brief turn of her head told her who it was, though she hadn't really needed visual proof. A moth to a flame, that's what she was.

She heard another voice and wanted to reassure her friend, her best friend that she would be fine now. Henric was here, she was always fine when he was here and the stories, she would have to tell her about the stories. She understood them now, understood what had happened to her. Still could not believe it but understood it. Her body took her then, her mind lost all battle as it shut down to help her as best it could in an unconscious state. Her body limp over his shoulder as nothing else registered anymore.
 
His eyes traveled over Shalamar's prone form lazily, then flickered back to Artemis and watched her intently. "You need to be there for her, darling." Henric said airily, subtly ignoring her request at calling her by that title and skulking up a flight of stairs with loping strides. "I do feel some form of kind pity towards the other young man who was here before - Wonder where he went off to? - Anyway..." He turned around a corner and continued walking up them, now picking up speed and probably leaving Artemis rather far behind as he continued to talk in his usual carefree fashion and silky voice. "She should be fine now ... Tell the nurses what occurred, and tell them I did what I could to relieve her of the spasms; now, Artemis - You should be handle carrying one person... Or that training would be for naught."

A short distance away from the Hospital Wing, Henric turned and placed Shalamar on the floor for Artemis to carry. Tilting his head slightly at her, he mused, "Sleep well," and then turned and left as quickly and subtly as he had arrived.
 
"I can pick up a horse, Henric" Artemis informed the irritating boy moodily. She was forced to run after Henric's long legs carried he and Shalamar far up the corridor. Why he was walking so fast, she had no idea, but somehow Artemis suspected that Henric had become uncomfortable with Shalamar's proximity. If she didn't know any better, she would go so far as to say unnerved. Of course the boy had shown no signs of any of this, but Artemis believed that he had a heart tucked away in the far corner of his mind somewhere that felt, if only a little, towards Shalamar.

She wanted to smack him for calling her darling again, for it sounded so condescending coming from his lips. Perhaps it was because it made her sound like a china doll instead of a person. But most of all, it was only something her family members called each other, and it was a familial thing that was intimate between both Yearlings and Blackmoore's alike. Yet it was not Henric's fault; much. He knew nothing of this. At the same time as thinking this, she specifically thought nothing of Danny Boyd. Artemis knelt to Shalamar's limp body with true compassion etched into her small features. A deep worry line that almost never appeared now sprung to her forehead, and Art reached out with bloodied hands to take her friend gently into her arms.

"He ought to have kissed her like a fairy tale," she smiled to herself, but paused to whimper as her hands scraped Shalamar's body to pick her up. Little bloody hand prints dotted poor Shalamar's arms, and she tried not to look at them and she drew her into a cradle hold. Artemis carried her just as Henric hand, and began to make her way to the Hospital Wing with her precious burden. "Do wake, love." mumble Art as she nudged her way through the door. "Shalamar..."
 
Shalamar began to stir slowly, the pill that Henric had given her held rejuvenating powers and at last it worked its way through the pain. One magical concoction vying for supremcy against a more ancient and magical mark, neither wanted to give up its control and neither did. The pain was ebbing of its own accord now. The dragon egg had been lain, it's mother protected it while it's keeper was marked for her destiny. She felt the strong hands holding her still and as she came around and her vision became clearer, she realized she was looking downwards at the passing floor. The feet she looked at were not of the boy she had thought she had seen but of Artemis'. A smile spread across her face, she had imagined him then. He been just a beautiful figment of her hyper active imagination.

"Artemis" her voice was low and soft, "Artemis where are we..." but as her head raised she saw exactly where they were, "you can put me down dear friend".


Continued Here
 
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