Chapter 8

       Acacia had been gazing at the tall volcano mountain when she was at the lake, but seeing it up close was vastly different from afar. The gigantic, towering volcano stretched towards the sky, releasing plumes of grey smoke. Streams of yellow and red lava carried black, dried lava pieces with them as the streams flowed into the hissing lake of lava surrounding the volcano.

       And that wasn’t all—large, colourful dragons circled the skies and the lake, earning a whole lot of ‘wows’ from everyone. A few girls screamed when a shiny golden dragon with old rotting white claws dived straight towards the lava lake, disappearing into the lava with a big splash.

       “No need to worry, class,” Mr Claus said patiently. “That is a dragon’s natural way of dying, and rebirth.” A small, dark blue baby dragon with the most adorable, round, violet eyes immerged from the lava, wading onto the grassy shore. It cooed and breathed a plume of fire at the astounded group of students.

       It slipped on the grass and plopped on the ground, its adorably large black eyes staring curiously at its audience. It spread its crumpled wings, and the hot air filled them. With a powerful flap of its surprisingly large wings, it took off into the sky, growing further and further away with each wingbeat. “How…” Claris spluttered.

       Mr Claus grinned, looking very smug. “Dragons are much like the ancient phoenixes. They die in flames and are reborn from the ashes of the dead one, which isn’t very shocking, considering that dragons evolved from phoenixes.”

       Phoenixes were already extinct. The aliens on Cloudstorm thought phoenixes were a myth—but the truth was that the large firebirds had migrated across space to a more magical place to live when early the early aliens began to hunt animals in their own solar system. They eventually went extinct in Dyia since they were new life forms in the solar systems, and the lack of an actual sun (Moonstar has a red and blue moon while Skysun has a yellow one) killed them all.

       Another yellow dragon swan-dived into the lava, followed by a young icy-blue baby dragon wading out of the lava. This time—despite its very large wings—the baby dragon only managed to hover a foot above the ground. It panicked and flapped vigorously.

       Christelle moved forward to help it, but Mr Claus blocked her path. Suddenly, a Allosaurus with big, curved teeth charged out of the beside the volcano, stomping like a Trompler towards the baby dragon. The baby dragon let out another pathetic wing flap before the Allosaurus clamped its jaws shut on top of it.

       The carnivorous tyrannosaur swallowed the baby dragon whole and spitted out its charred bones, all that remained of the tiny baby dragon.

       Everyone screamed and the Allosaurus—who was frightened by the noise—ran back into the forest. Mr Claus calmed down a sobbing Christelle while explaining to the class the bloody scene.

       “There is a reason for their large wings, you see, as they need to fly at birth. Many predators consider baby dragons as delicacies because of their soft scales and small size.”

        “Why did you allow it to be eaten? Where are its parents?” Fang—a boy in class—asked.

        “Interesting question, Fang,” Mr Claus noted. “They have no parents. A dragon egg is formed inside an old dragon’s body. Once the egg is ready, the old dragon can no longer sustain its life as the egg will drain its energy and nutrients. The dragon will dive into lava, so it does not die on the volcano and dirty it. While the body crumbles to ash in the lava, the egg in its body will melt from the heat, allowing the baby dragon to swim to the surface. I did not allow Christelle to help, as it’s simply nature that it couldn’t fly and got eaten.

        Acacia raised her hand. “Won’t the baby dragon die in the lava?” she asked.

        “No, the baby dragon’s soft scales are there for reason, the reason being to protect the dragon from the lava’s searing heat. The scales are covered in Eloslous Slime. The slime softens solid materials but acts like a fireproof layer,” Mr Claus patted Christelle’s back calmly, despite the horror the class was facing him with.

        “The slime dries over time and sticks to the dragon’s scales. The first time the baby dragon sheds its scales, the slime comes off with it. That is the reason why adult dragons have hard, impossible-to-break scales. Let me show you,” he paused to turn to Canton Hillary and whispered something in Canton’s ear.

         The lady nodded, and a few minutes later, a green male dragon with a forked black tongue landed on the ground in front a Mr Claus. Saying it was big was putting it mildly. It was about twenty stories tall, with white, gleaming teeth and wings the size of three Allosauruses placed next to each other. Long, Acacia-sized claws dug into the mossy ground. It made the yellow and golden dragons that died look pathetic.

          Everyone scrambled back as it let out an ear-shattering roar. A woman wearing the Hillary ranger uniform jumped off the dragon’s scaly back. “This is Lady Gregrine, our dragon trainer and champion rider,” Canton Hillary proudly introduced the woman. The woman was short and had a wide jaw. She gave a dismissive wave before turning to stroke the dragon.

         The Allosaurus from before trampled out again to see what all the commotion was about. It hissed at the dragon be charging and biting it. The scene that followed was almost comical.

         No matter how hard or fiercely the Allosaurus bit the dragon, nothing happened. The dinosaur didn’t even scratch the dragon’s scales. The dragon studied its claws, looking awfully bored, before lashing its powerful tail at the dinosaur, sending the Allosaurus sailing through the air and into the forest.

         Everyone was laughing and applauding by then, even Lady Gregrine. Mr Claus grinned, shaking Canton Hillary’s hand before leading the class away towards a large cave with a wooden board stuck on its ceiling, which said ‘Dragons Den’.

         The cave—den—had a few stalactites at the sides of the wall of hanging from the ceiling. The whole place was orangey-brown, and dragons of varied sizes and colours rested on rocks and boulders or on the hard floor.

         “Okay, class, let’s ride some dragons!” Mr Claus announced. Everyone cheered loudly. Mr Claus passed around slips of paper that indicated which dragon a group got to ride. Acacia, Claris and Annice got a grassy green dragon named Gullen, whose trainer was—thankfully—a cheery man named Daniel.

         He helped Acacia and Annice up Gullen but had to assist another group with a dragon named Icicle and left Claris to get on herself, which was admittedly amusing as she was wearing slippery shoes that kept sliding down Gullen’s scales.

          After a final successful attempt to climb on Gullen’s back by Claris, all the dragons walked out of the cave into a clearing and reared up their wings. At their trainer’s commands, they took off into a sky like bullets.

         When Daniel signalled Icicle and Gullen to take off, they lifted up their wings above their respective group’s head, and beat them against the ground, pushing off into the sky. Gullen roared and fiery red flames blasted out of his mouth. Its purple irises gleamed under the bright yellow moon, something that Annice noticed.

         “Hey, Gullen has purple eyes,” she whispered.

         Acacia and Claris were too busy celebrating to hear.