Ok, so, when last I wrote, it was a blizzard outside and I thought of how nice it was to have time to write. Then my boys woke up.

So, what I had written down was this;

“The blizzard raged, winds whipping the boy about his face, ice forming from the snot trying to run out his nose. Freezing wasn’t a part of where he thought he would be today. …….”

I wondered where it would take me, what the boy would do, why would I write about the snot coming from his nose and how in the world could this fit into any story line I have ever dreamed up?

I wanted you, the reader, to understand how truly miserable he was, how this was all a mistake in his head and how much trouble he was in. Did I do it? Did I use my words correctly?

Was I able to pull you in and drag you into his world? I hope so, because there is more to come. Read below for the story of how Hanston met a dragon.


The blizzard raged, winds whipping the boy about his face, ice forming from the snot trying to run out his nose. Freezing wasn’t a part of where he thought he would be today. This storm wasn’t even supposed to happen.

After all, the days had been warming up and he was heading South, so it should be getting warmer, not colder, right? The Great Melt had started, so, the storm should just be rain and wind, maybe thunder, but, not snow and ice.

He trudged on, walking against the wind, the cold biting his exposed flesh. His clothes were still winter clothes, as the Great Melt had only just begun, so, he felt he could continue, but, he also felt as if something were very unnatural about this.

Maybe he wouldn’t make it to Jacartha after all, maybe this would be where he would die.

Still, he trudged on, getting weary by the wind and feeling as if he didn’t even want to make it any more. He tried to get the thoughts out of his head. He thought about his Father, how he had trusted him to go to Jacartha on his own, for the first time, to join the Kings Army. He thought of how his mother had insisted he take enough food for two days, even though the trip should just take a half day. He thought about his younger brother, how he had hugged him so tight, not wanting him to go.

Maybe he would just lay down, take a rest.

“No!”, He screamed out loud, trying to get the thought out of his mind. He knew laying down would be the end. He trudged on.

He could feel his legs getting weak and his knees bending farther and farther, then he felt his knees hit the ground.

He knew he had stopped, but not very much around him registered correctly in his mind. He knew it was cold out, but he had stopped feeling cold. He knew the wind was blowing hard and fast, but he couldn’t feel it anymore. He couldn’t understand what was happening, even the light of day seemed to be getting darker and darker.

Then he could only hear the wind around him. He heard a thud, as if a body had hit the ground, but it was so dark and he was so tired. He didn’t know what was happening, he only knew he needed sleep.


Graderean had seen the white dragon enter the area and knew she was going to cause trouble. He wasn’t sure where, but, he knew how. Her kind manipulated the storms and created cold, ice and snow. She would create a blizzard where one should not be.

He followed her. He wasn’t allowed to confront her right now, she had to be allowed to do what she was going to do without interference. God knew what He was doing, but that didn’t mean Graderean understood. He often did not, but, he was a messenger and a protector, not God. So he followed and watched.

He saw her land on the hill, North of  Jacartha and South of the little village of Torboda. He knew her intention was just to create a bit of devastation, then leave. Her kind never killed intentionally, they just tried to create chaos. This was their nature, so, he couldn’t intervene.

As he flew, he looked down upon the trail and saw a figure, trying to move forward. Something about this figure made him fly closer, intent on nothing more than seeing who would dare to keep traveling in the blizzard that had come up from the white dragon. He could sense that there was a connection between this human and himself.

His eyes, seeing far more than any human, could see this was but a boy, a mere child, traveling as an adult and probably completely unaware of the danger of the storm. He would keep an eye on this one.

As he watched, he heard the boy’s scream and then watched as the boy sank to his knees, then collapsed. He had to do something, he felt led to do something.

“Father, show me what you would have me do.” He prayed, then he swooped down, towards the boy.

As he landed, near the boy, he changed into human form. He picked the boy up, wrapping him in his cloak and headed toward Jacartha. He now knew what he must do.


Ok, so, this is the first story I have ever made that I thought would be a perfect start to a book. I usually write things that may fit here, or there, but I have always had a hard time with a start.

I hope you have enjoyed this, as I plan on writing more, in between work, church, family and book reviews, of course.