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I heard a small chirping sound from my left. I looked there, and to my surprise I saw a small sparrow sitting on the roof tile next to me. It was looking curiosly at me with its head tilted to one side. It did not seem to fear me one tiny bit, possibly due to the fact that it had never seen something like me before. I slowly extended one of my claws towards it, and it hopped onto it. Bringing it up to my face, I peered closer. It eyed me conspiciously for a few seconds before fluttering over to one of my horns. I glanced at it in wonder. Brave thing, that.

"Hey there, fella." I said to the bird. It chirped back in response. I smiled, gazing out over the landscape before me. The entire valley below me was covered in glistening white snow. The road that ran from one end of the valley to the other stood out like a soot streak on a white paper. Very few cars ever came by due to the fact that the highway had been moved further away, making the place where we live a very calm place. I breathed slowly, taking in the peace around me.

Sitting on the roof of our house had become a habit for me the last few days. It's one of the places that only I can reach, so it's perfect for chilling out and getting some alone time for thinking. The main reason for me sitting here now was no fancy one. I just wanted to be alone.

The sound of a car slowing down  reached my ears. I looked towards the road and there, like so many times before, the postman's bright yellow van ground to a halt next to our postboxes. A faint creak; he opened the box. Slam. The postbox slammed closed, mail delivered as usual. I flexed my tail a bit, toying with the idea of flying down and fetching the mail.

"You don't mind us taking a little trip, do you?" I asked the sparrow who was still sitting on my head.

"Chirp!" It answered gleefully.

"I'll take that as a no."

I jumped and flapped my wings to get a little speed. I could feel the sparrow holding on for dear life. The flight was not a long one, but still enjoyable. I landed by the side of the postboxes and peeked inside our. A stack of letters, a newspaper and lots of advertisements. I left the advertisements in the box (they were all useless crap anyway). Shoving the stack of letters under one of my arms and rolling up the newspaper in my claws, I flew back to the roof. As I landed, the sparrow hopped off and placed himself on an air vent right next to the chimney, where he apparently made himself comfortable and gave me a dignified look. I chuckled a bit at how intelligent he looked.
Flipping through the stack of letters, I begun sorting them in heaps. Dad's to the left, Mum's on the right and any mischievous ads that had slipped along went down the chimney into the open fire below. Not finding anything of interest, I put the letters aside and started reading the newspaper instead. As first-page news, there were politics, politics and maybe a little more politics. I sighed. Can't they have something interesting on the first page, just one time? All they ever write about is crap going on in other parts of the world, as revolutions, economy crises and dictators bombing his own cities.

What a world we live in. I thought.

A small redirecting sidenote caught my eye. "Strange sighting in the Kila valley area – Hoax or Reality?" I mumbled. "I guess that's me then." I flipped to page seven as the sidenote said, where I was met by a blurry image of a grey-blue sky with something clearly serpentine flying away at a high speed. I groaned.

"Alright. Let's see what the annoying guys with the cameras have to say." I said to the sparrow, who chirped back.

The article didn't really say much of worth. It was mainly about sighting like this that had occurred before, and a small part about hoaxes. There was a part, though, that caught my eye. It was an interview with a scientist at Uppsala to whom they had shown the picture. He had said, and I quote;

"That is a very interesting picture. If I wasn't a respected biologist, I would say that that is a DSA - Dragon Shaped Object. But, as dragons are only mythological creatures I cannot say that it would be a legit theory."

Smart guy, I thought. That's one I'd like to talk to. The rest of the interview was full of dragon references and speculations what the thing(me) in the picture could be. They wrapped it up by saying that they would be looking into the matter more, but that they were leaning towards the picture being photoshopped.

I flipped to the comics page and plowed through them, giggling at Hälge The Moose who is constantly having trouble with his horns. The sparrow, who apparently felt left out hopped over to me and placed himself on one of my horns again. He chirped loudly in my ear, apparently displeased with something, and I guessed what it was. I held up the newspaper to his level so he could read too, and he calmed down. After a few minutes, I rolled up the newspaper and threw it with the rest of the mail. Stretching my limbs, I sat up from the half-lying position I had manouvered myself into. The sparrow jumped down on my muzzle, blinked at me a few times, turned around, wagged his tailfeathers and then he flew over to a small nest fixed to the side of the second chimney. He landed gracefully, and I smiled at him.

"Jarl! Jaaaarl! Where are you? I can see your tail hanging down up there, no point in pretending you're not there." Mum called out the door.

"Blasted tail. What is it?" I called back.

"You've been sitting there for the better part of the day, and you have a phone call. Come in, I'm freezing my nose off here." She exclaimed, and shut the door. I sighed. It had been nice just being alone.

Grabbing the mail and taking a jump down to ground level, I stomped off the snow that was sticking to my talons and went inside. Mom was sitting at her worktable, painting. I threw the stack in front of her and she gestured at a phone lying on the dinner table. "It's from the school."

Aw, hell. Why would they be calling me? I picked up the phone, a little wary.

"Yes?" I said.

"Good morning, Jarl. You sound a hoarse?" I heard, recognizing my teacher's cheerful voice.

"Oh, Good morning, sir. What gives me the pleasure?"

"Bah, have I not told you to ditch that "Sir-ing" already? We're not politicians licking each others asses." He said, feigning irritation. I chuckled. Our class's teacher is an open, friendly guy who acts more like a teenager than a serious, boring adult. That's the main reason why the entire class loves him. Although, all our teachers are like that, more or less.

"Sorry, Jim. The power of habit. So, why are you calling me this merry morning?" I asked, smiling.

"To bring you both good news and bad news. The good news are that you've been selected to go for a trip to KNC up in Stockholm along with the other A-graders in Nature Science." He said in his best announcer voice.

My jaw dropped. Whoa, that's awesome! Top modern research equipment, the best labs in Sweden and only the best of the best students in the schools were selected to go there. This meant that I, along with the other students who had been selected got to go up there, use all of that stuff and see all the new research projects going on there. Every science-interested student's drool-inducing dream.

"Whoa?! Are you serious? You're not just pulling my tail here?" I bit my tounge as soon as I had said it. It just slipped out.

"Nope. Congratulations; You've just been branded a grind and a geek!" He laughed a bit at me before continuing. "What did you mean by tail, by the way?"

"Oh...eh, it's nothing. Well, it's something, but I'll tell you later. When are we going?" I said, trying to change subject.

"I have not gotten the time and date yet, but it's soon."

"Excuse me for a moment while I go insane and dance with joy." I joked. I roared "Yeah!" and made the victory sign with two of my claws raised into the air. "Okey. Done."

"Glad you like it. Be sure you do a good work up there, eh?" He said cheerfully.

"Will do. What about the bad news?" It can't be that bad, I thought.

"Ah. That. Well, you know your old scicence teacher, James? He got a job up in Stockholm, so he's leaving for that instead. You're gonna meet him one last time up at KNC, though." He said.

"What? Aw, that's crap. Well, at least he got the job he wanted." I groaned. He was the one who had boosted my interest in science and the one to thank for my high grades.

"Mh. Oh, yes, you haven't forgotten our Progress Meeting later today, eh?" He said.

Oh, shit. I had in fact forgotten that. Damn. My day just screwed up miserably.

"Er...no, of course not. I'll be there, along with..." I gestured wildly at the almanac, trying to get Ma's attention. She slapped herself on the forehead, shook her head and pointed at the ceiling. That meant dad. "my dad. And the time was?"

"Five o' clock."

"Kay'. See ya there."

"Bye." He said and hung up.

I bit my index claw and chuckled. Despite this coming out of the blue, I was actually looking forward to it. Seeing Jim's reaction would be fun, as he was very interested in fantasy and mythology. Still imagining the general reaction from the teachers, I went upstairs to talk to dad. Up the stairs, past a bookshelf and a left turn. I spotted him sitting in front of his computer with his headset on, so I tapped him lightly on his shoulder with a claw. With a yelp he jumped, snapped around and glared at me.

"Holy crap, don't scare me like that! A sharp claw on your shoulder out of nowhere is quite unnerving." He exclaimed with an emphasis on the quite.

"Sorry. Listen, I forgot that I had to go to school today, you know, for the Progress Meeting with my teacher. I was wondering if you could both drive me there and come with me? I kinda need someone who won't run off screaming at the sight of me." I shrugged.

"Can't you just fly there?" He said with a raised eyebrow. I wasn't certain about whether he was joking or not.

"No, I can't. For several reasons. I'm not that used to my wings and flying long distances, and some nutter with a Bofors cannon might get a little trigger-happy." I sighed.

"Point taken. Fine, go and get ready. We should probably get there some time before." He scratched his beard, frowning. "Bah, this will be comparable to an earthquake. I am not looking forward to this."

"I am." I said, sticking out my forked tounge and wiggling around it a little. I grinned at his unapproving expression and walked back downstairs.

Get ready? I thought. What is there to do to "Get ready"?  I have my clothes on, I don't need my bag for this school trip, and I've already brushed my teeth. Pondering, I absently smacked my claws against a doorframe. That was a bad idea. To my shock, they left centimetere-deep dents in the hard wood. Tracing my claw along the rim of one of the holes, I grunted. Seems like I have to dull those things on a regular basis. Well, at least I have something to do.

I did a quick search of the toilet cabinet for a nail clipper, and I was soon successful in securing the small device. Positioning myself on the toilet, I grasped the tip of my left index claw and pressed the nail clipper. Nothing happed. Frowning, I pressed a little harder. Still nothing. Growling in frustration, I squeezed the clipper with all my might.

BANG. The clipper flew apart in a minor explosion of twisted metal and shrapnel. Cursing heavily, I shook my right paw which was a little numb from the impact. I gathered up the twisted metal pieces, threw them in the garbage and spat at them. Okey, that did not work.

"What was that?" Ma called.

"I had an incident with the nail clipper. Nothing to worry about." I yelled back.

I examined my claw and to my disappointment, the clipper had not even left a scratch. This thing was hard.

Grumbling, I went down into the basement to the tool storage. I rummaged through a few toolboxes until I found what I was looking for. With a wry smile, I pulled out a pair of pliers. Once again grasping my claw, I squeezed the pliers. Nothing. I continued to increase the force I put behind the arms the the pliers, but the claw resisted all of my attempts. Disgusted, I threw it aside. My thoughts went to a very big, very nasty file(the kind of "immah-mess-you-up-naow, wood-piece." file), but none could be seen. I spotted a bolt cutter on the top shelf. Sighing, I reached for it. That thing was huge, and had been through a lot of things, not to mention a "re-acquiring" of a stolen car. If that doesn't work, I don't know what will.

For the third time, I jammed my claw between the blades of the bolt cutter and squeezed it. This time, something actually happened. After a few seconds, a small snap came from my claw and a piece chipped off. I brought it closer to my face, examining it. The tip was now flat, but with nasty edges. I rubbed it against the rough concrete floor and managed to smooth out the edges somewhat. Breathing a sigh of relief, I repeated the process on the rest of my seven claws. I left my feet alone, as my talons might come in handy with all the ice outside.

I flexed my claws, feeling a little strange. Remembering something, I gathered up the claw fragments, went to my room and put them in a tiny glass jar. It's a thing I do, whenever some kind of substance is malplaced or there is some left in an almost empty chemical container I salvage it and put it in one of my small glass jars. I figured dragon claw fragments went under the category "Rare Magical Non-Existent Substance", so it got an honorary spot in front of the others. Realizing that I had not looked through this cabinet for a very long time, I browsed the bottles. There was a few interesting ones. Oxalic acid, growth accelerator, a few gunpowder containers and 0.04 µg of Americum-241. That was the bottle I was most proud of. I had managed to salvage a little radioactive isotopes from two discarded fire alarms. It was not enough to do anything with, but it increased the coolness factor of my science cabinet by 1337.

My ears picked up a slight vibration from my phone, which was lying on my computer table. The low buzz was soon replaced by a loud "HAAAAAAAAAAX!" and a crash. Taking a swift step there, I tapped a button on it, silencing it. A text message? The text read;

Who are you, really? What defines a person?
What sets a human apart from...a monster?
When will a person realize who he really is? At his death bed? When someone he loves is in distress? When his very self is changed beyond anything anyone could have ever thought of?

Can a dream...become a very real, very dangerous reality?

Ponder this. You will hear from me again.

~ A friend

It felt like my blood froze. What is this? Who the hell is this?! These few, short lines scared me more than anything else I had ever seen in my entire life. Afraid that it might disappear, I quickly snatched my notepad and a pen from the table. With shaky hands, I copied the message word for word onto the paper. Placing the paper down on the table as if it was an armed bomb, I decided to try and reply to the unnerving message. Quickly pushing the buttons, I wrote;

I will return questions with questions.
Who are you? How did you get my number? What do you want?

With a shaking claw, I pressed Send. I waited for a few sweaty moments before an error message popped up.

          –Error-
Recipent Not Found.
   Please Try Again.

"Not found...?" I whispered. But...I have a text from that very number right here? How can it be "Not Found"? What on earth is going on here?

"JAAARL! We have to go now! Where are you, ya big, scaly moron?" Dad bellowed from upstairs. I jumped, startled. My thoughts raced for a second, but then I decided to wait with showing this. Best to find out a little more before scaring my parents shitless.

"Coming!" I called back, trying to keep my voice steady. I placed the phone on top of the notepad and, giving it a last worried glance, I ran upstairs.

"There you are." Dad huffed. "Now get moving. I want to get this over with."

"Yeah, yeah. Take it easy." I pulled the door opened and stepped back out into the sunlight. I stretched my wings to their full extent and sucked in the light, enjoying it to the fullest. It helped in calming me a little, and it made me feel a little better.

"Uh...I just realized something. Will you still fit in the car?" Dad said, frowning.

"I don't know." I replied, taken a little off-guard. "We'll just have to find out, eh?"

Dad just grunted and unlocked the car. Opening the front seat door, I stared disbelievingly at the seat. It was so small! I guess it's my dragon side that's messing with me, but cramming into that tiny space would be horrible. Hesitating for a second, I begun manouvering into the small space.

I pressed my wings against my back to minimize my width, grabbed my tail and ducked down with my head. Placing my first foot into the car, I stuck my tail inside. It was not cooperating and sprawled out over the drivers seat. Annoyed, I pulled it back and tried pushing it down onto the floor. It worked, but was not comfortable at all. As I was pulling the rest of my body into the car, I realized that even with my wings folded, I could not lean back on the seat as my wings protruded at least half a decimetre from my back even when folded as tightly as possible. Sure, I could sit on the edge of the seat, but that would make a seat belt hard to wear nor would it be any better for my tail. It would have to do for now, though. I really need to practice long-distance flying.

Already starting to ache in my tail, I motioned for dad to get in. He started checked something under the car first, though.

"C'mon, hurry up. My tail is hurting and my wings are cramped." I said.

"Nerves?" He asked with a slight smile.

"No, a small seat and a hurting ass. Thank god we're not going far." I grunted.

Dad chuckled slightly and pushed the key into the ignition. As the car rumbled into action, I thought about the strange message. Who could have sent that? Whoever the person was, he knew a lot about me and my thoughts on life. More importantly, he knew about me being a dragon. What if he was working for some kind of creepy organization or the government? This was some serious trouble, but I had to find out more before scaring the crap out of my parents about this. Still, I need someone I can trust, someone who I can talk to. Oh well. This would have to wait until I got home again. I pushed these unnerving thoughts from my mind and relaxed a bit.

Opening the CD compartment, I started browsing the disks. "Life's A party"? Nah. "If I Should Fall From Grace With God"? Mmmh...Pogues are good, but not now. "Swedish Classics"? Heck yes. Removing the disk from its case, I pushed it into the player. A few seconds later "We'll continue playin' Rock and Roll" was streaming out of the car speakers, causing me and dad hum along.

"So, what is your brilliant scheme then?" Dad asked during the solo.

"I don't know, really." I admitted. "Simply bust in, spread my wings and say 'F**k you , I'm a Dragon' ?"

"I don't think that's a very good idea" Dad said and started laughing.

"Maybe not. I really don't know. I'll take it as it comes." I shrugged.

I closed my eyes and relaxed, feeling my limbs go limp. Still feeling a little unnerved, I tried a meditation technique that I use to calm myself. I imagined my stress and worries as a liquid, forming at the base of my skull. I gave it a slight mental push, and it started running down my body. It traveled down my spine, flowed over my vertebrae, sapping small specks of worry from my nervous system as it went by. Suddenly something that usually doesn't happen happened. A little of it separated from the main flow and travelled out into my wings instead, starting to wash away the cramped feeling and the formidable amount of stress that had accumulated there. The rest of the liquid trickled down my chest, out into my arms and abdomen, into my stomach, and untied the knot that had formed there. It travelled down my upper arm, past the elbow, causing it to twitch a little. It spread out from the bone into the flesh around it, out into my skin, following the pattern of my scales as it continued flowing down towards my hand. I could feel the pressure building in my claws, stronger and stronger as it neared the tips. Suddenly, somthing holding it back disappeared. It surged, rushing out of my claws, as an invisible jetstream of condensed emotion. As if spurred by the success in my arms, the liquid in my hips split up, half of it rushing into my tail and the rest of it cascading down my legs. It traced along the rims of my spikes on my tail, forming the sensation of a pattern resembling beads on a chain. It slowly reached the end of my tail, spiralling down the vertebrae, and finally seeping out of the tip into the floor of the car.

A tingly sensation appeared in my legs, and I slowly breathed out. Feeling calm and relaxed, I opened my eyes, half excpecting to see some black, gooey worry-sludge slowly seeping into the floor. Of course there weren't any. To my mild surprise, I found us grinding to a halt on the school's parking lot. Rolling my shoulders, I took a deep breath. Meditation or not, this was freaking me out.

"Ready? You look..uh...well, "Pale" isn't a correct term anymore, but...less red?" Dad trailed off.

"Nah, I'm fine, it's just...Bah, who am I trying to fool? I'm quaking in my talons."

"We can still ditch this."

"You, good sir, are insane. Leeeeroy f***ng Jenkins, here we go." I exclaimed and pushed the door open. Stepping out into the parking lot, I stretched my limbs with some satisfying cracks.

"I can't help but to notice how naturally you move. It's like you've been a dragon for your entire life." Dad said while locking the car.

"Yeah, I've thought about that too. I came up with three possible alternatives. One; It was built into the transformation process in some inexplainable way. Probably included in the "Instinct Pack". Two; All those late nights of, insert citation marks here, "Theoretical Dragon Anatomy" paid off. And Three; Magic." I counted on my claws.

"Oh, yes. Magic. That stuff solves most of the inconsistencies in the world, eh?" Dad snorted. "And my dad is Bilbo the Hobbit."

"That's like comparing, well, magic to extremely advanced technology. Both may seem like magic to some, but it's only something that we can't explain. Just look at me, I'm a red and black two-meter mythological reptile. Magic? Possibly. Advanced technology that we can't hope to even begin to understand? Just as plausible as the latter, as they are so closely related to each other."

"Oh geez. My son, the Dragon Philosopher. And you're damn good at it too." Dad shook his head and started to walk towards the entrance of the school.

"Spend a few hours stuck in your room with "Plato and a Platypus walk into a Bar" and you'd be too."

"Excuse me, what? Plato and a Platypus?" Dad raised an eyebrow at me disbelievingly.

"Understanding philosphy through jokes. A very interesting read, although very confusing."

"Example, please?" Dad crossed his arms with a slight smile.

"Fine. Say we're at a convention for ideologics. Someone spills his drink over his shirt and states; Bah. Shit happens. The closest guy, who is a Buddhist replies "If shit does happen, it's not really shit." The man to the right of him, who's a Zen Buddhist says "Shit is, and is not." To which his pal, whom is also a Zen Buddhist, asks "What is the sound of shit happening, actually?". A bearded communist in the back yells "If shit happens, it's everybody's shit!" when a Creationist points around him and says "God made all this shit!". The Darwinist next to him smiles at him and claims that "This shit was once food.". The Judaist who was trying to say something before throws his arms into the air and exclaims "WHY DOES THIS SHIT ALWAYS HAPPEN TO US?!" The Stoicist next to him pats him on the back and tries to comfort him by saying "This shit is good for us!" And in the midst of all this chaos, a slightly lost Agnostic groans and says "What is this shit?"."

"Philosophy can rely on many things; Making fun of ideologies is only one." I finished with a laugh at dad's expression.

"I don't think you're crazy anymore. Now I know for a fact that you are totally nuts."

"Nuts, nutters, Philosophy in a nutshell. That's life, Dad!"

"Bah. My head hurts, you scaly moron." He huffed.

"One of the points of philosophy is to start with something so simple as to seem not worth stating, and to end with something so paradoxical that no one will believe it. This was merely stating the truth." I finished, laughing very hard.

"Shut up."

Still shaking with held-back laughter, I looked up at the imposing school building in front of me. Memories of the terms before popped up, and I sighed. Good times. I could still remember the roar of the wind in my ears as I rode down the slope outside the school on my back on a skateboard that I had loaned, and the pain in my rear from falling off halfway. Looking towards the school yard, I remembered the unpleasant memory of trying to climb one of the very small trees there, only to discover that the branch I was hanging from could not hold my weight. Hiding the broken branch from the teachers had been a pain in the ass. And here I stood, with another, most certanly, even more crazy year before me.

Coming back to reality, I opened the first of the two doors and, having to duck a bit, stepped through. Down a few meters of blue, rubber-floored hallway (That, may I add, my claws, even though dulled, left pretty substantial marks on.). Up to the second pair of doors.

"What are you waiting for? I thought dragons were supposed to be brave, fearsome creatures. Go on." Dad encouraged me.

I placed my paw upon the last big blue door, and with a final sting of hesitation, pushed it open and stepped in.

CRASH. I jumped at the sudden sound, but it was nothing compared to the mayhem-in-the-making over at the table where the teachers apparently had, up to this point, been having a meeting. Loud swearing, screaming and yelling painfully assaulted my eardrums. Out of reflex, I flattened my ears against my skull due to the discomfort caused by the noise. A little stunned by the chaos I had caused just by stepping in, I stared at my teachers.
Ben, the math teacher, was scrambling for his phone. Pamela, the swedish teacher, was screaming at the top of her lungs. Pedro, our spanish teacher was trying to get up from the floor, swearing loudly in spanish. Mr. Roberts, the headmaster, was pinching himself with a horrified expression.

What caught my eye was Jim. He wasn't screaming. He wasn't swearing. He wasn't trying to call the police. What he was doing was the most unexpected thing ever. He was, without any visible second thoughts, walking towards me, shining like a sun. He was looking so happy, I could not help to smile a bit myself. As the other teachers saw him, they started shouting for him to come back, to be careful, that I might attack. He just gestured for them to be silent. He placed himself in front of me, and took a deep breath. I realized that his emotions were so strong I could actually smell his happiness.

"I knew it. I knew it all along. They said it was fever dreams, or a figment of my imagination. I never believed them. He was real. The proof stands here." He said before he caught himself. "I'm so sorry." He coughed a little, and seemingly unaware of it, traced his fingers along a scar on his left arm. "I think I know who you are and what you meant by "pulling your tail".

"You're damn right. Thank god, someone who doesn't scream." I chuckled nervously. "What did you mean with that "You knew it all along"?"

"I..." Jim started, but he was interrupted by Mr. Roberts, who suddenly exclaimed:

"Jim, what the f*ck is going on here, and what the f*ck is that thing?!"

Jim started to answer, but I stopped him.

"I might be able to explain a little better, sir. First, sorry for the rude entry. Second; I think you need a seat before I continue."

Obviously shocked that I was able to talk, Mr. Roberts took a step back.

"W-what the f*ck are you?" He stammered.

Ironic. It's always the teachers who complain about bad language.

"If you want to know what I am, look up "Dragon" in a dictionary. I think who I am is a little more important now." I said, a little annoyed.

"Dragon?! They doesn't even exist! And yes, who the heck are you?" Mr. Roberts said, disbelievingly.

"Yet here I stand. Listen, I understand that this might be a little hard to believe, but we've known each other for almost three years now." I replied.

"I'm pretty sure I would know if I'd known a...dragon...for three years."

"So am I. But I became a dragon only nine days ago. My name is, and have always been, Jarl."

Mr. Roberts froze, jaw agape.

"I told you it would be hard to believe." I sighed, rolling my slit eyes.

"I don't believe it. Not a word of it." Mr. Roberts said through clenched teeth.

"You'd better do." Dad suddenly said. "He's gonna be in a hell of a trouble if he can't finish his education."

Mr. Roberts jumped, as if first now noticing dad.

"Wha...You..." He stammered.

"Come on. He could convince me that he's my son beyond doubt, and just didn't eat him or something. I hope you're not so thick-headed that you can't see past his scales." Dad huffed.

"Dad, please. Insults won't help."

"Fine."

Mr. Roberts coughed slightly and said:

"I... well...You obviously trust him, and for me, it's a start. But still, I am who I am. Prove it."

"I expected nothing else. My full name is Jarl Eric Gullberg. I'm in class eight green, who is supervised by Jim Arenston. You gave me a book, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn last year, which, may I add, was very good. You never told me the reason, though. I tripped during the relay race last summer and skinned my arms. Can't show you the scars, though, as they dissappeared during the transformation.  I am in the advanced math group, as well as the advanced spanish group. You have a coffee cup with the school's emblem on that you always use."

I took a breath to continue with my list, but he held up a hand and stopped me.

"I... ah, hell. Pinch my ass and call me mickey mouse. I believe you. How on earth did this happen?" He said weakly.

"Long story that will take some time to tell. Shall we sit?" I suggested.

Nodding, Mr. Roberts sat down along with Jim and Dad. During our short chat Ben had dissappeared, Pamela had sat down (she was looking scared out of her wits) and Pedro was looking at me with a curious expression.

I took a chair, turned it one-quarter of a turn so that I would not have to sit on my tail and with a deep breath, I begun telling my tale. It felt good being able to spill your beans to some adults that you knew had a little in fluence over the rest of the world. The words simply fell from my forked tounge as stones, making me lighter and lighter for every word. As I continued telling my story, I noticed a change in the smell around me. What first had been a stingy, dark smell that could best be described as fear had turned into a lighter, more calming scent. It was trust. Compassion. Understanding.
"...and the transformation started after I had squeezed the tablet. It was unpleasant, but it went quick." I said.

"How did it feel? I mean, "unpleasant" doesn't sound so bad." Pedro asked.

"Imagine ten fully loaded trucks, roaring over you at a hundred kilometers per hour, and then being tossed into a meat grinder to finally being stretched like a chewing gum and getting shot in your balls with a shotgun multiple times." I turned around and showed them the spikes on my back to empathize my words. "These buggers grew inside the body at first. Then...well, you can guess."

"Mierda." Pedro breathed with a disturbed expression. "I don't think I want to know more."

"You don't. But as they say, no pain, and I got plenty of that, no gain. After this, I think the pain is proportional to the gain. Flying is amazing." I said, smiling a little. "All my senses are much better than before. Smell, taste, vision. It's a little odd, though, as I still need my glasses, but I can see much better in the terms of colour, detail and light. Midnight is like an afternoon sunset to me."

"Well...this is a lot to take in. What are you planning to do now?" Mr. Roberts asked.

"Go back to semi-normal life, why else would I be here? If I wanted to live like mythologlical dragons, I would be long gone and hiding in a cave hoarding gold, right?" I chuckled.

"I...oh, you can't be serious. You don't mean going back here, to school, right?" Mr. Roberts asked.

"That's exactly what I mean. Why not? If I'm a dragon, why can't there be more? Hiding in their homes, scared of what society will think of them. Rejected or contained, in their self-imposed prisons. Well, I'm not going to be like that. I'm going to show the world that dragons are real and sentient, not some kind of feral beasts from stories, flying around causing destruction and mayhem. I was depressed and practically ready to jump off a cliff a few weeks ago, but along comes this stone and saves my life. I have no doubt that there are more people like me out there, who goes every waking moment of their lives thinking, hoping and longing. Why should I deny them what may save them from agony and pain all their time awake? To know that there are dragons out there and that they exist will definately give many people something to live for. Sir, the world has not seen anyting this big since we landed on the moon, and that was, what, fifty years ago? The world needs a change, something so big that it will shake in its very foundation and rise again into a new age. I am that change. Why should I deny the world that? And the thought of living confined in my house the rest of my life makes me shiver with fear." I finished.

"I have not heard words like that since I was at a philosopher's speech, and he was talking about something I understood before. You are damned passionate about this. But still, is the world ready? Jarl. You have my support." Mr. Roberts concluded.

"Thank you. I'm going to need it." I said. It warmed my heart, having Mr. Roberts supporting me like that.

"I can't imagine how horrible you must feel. To be...that." Pamela said, looking at me as if I had to hate every moment of my existence.

"Hey. I don't feel horrible at all. In fact, this is the best thing that could have happened to me, ever. I'm not regretting that I picked up that stone, and I never will. It was as if I was not complete before, but no longer. I am what I'm supposed to be now. This "that" is me now, and I love every second of it." I responded, putting an end to the discussion. "Now, what about our current situation? How is this going to be handled? Cause' I'm coming back here, no options avaliable." I asked.

Mr. Roberts clasped his hands together and rested his forehead on them, deep in thought.

"Even though you're so dead set on a, insert quotation marks here, "normal" life, we can't ignore the fact that you are what you are. No offense." He said.

"None taken, sir."

"For my part, I feel that we should go on as normal. But I'm not the dragon here, that's you. You probably know more about what should be done than me, as this situation is...new." He looked up at me again.

"You're lucky to not have lost your speech. To teach you two languages all over again would have been a pain." Pamela said with a wry smile.

"You're still stuck in the common misconception that dragons are some kind of animals. Theoretically, I could not lose speech, as dragons are, literature-wise, not mute. Nor are they simple beasts. They...we...are are as sentient as any human. The proof stands here before you." I spread my arms.

Mr. Roberts cleared his throat, giving me a look that said "Get going".

"Hrm. Well, we have the problem of introduction. Any ideas?" I asked.

"You come here at the thirteenth as usual. We'll tell the classes what to expect, and if they don't believe us, which I'm sure they won't, a dragon walking in through the school's entrance will be pretty convincing. As I said, we go on as normal." Mr. Roberts made a quick note in his noteblock. "Anything else?"

"Uh...yes, well, not really. I was kinda hoping you would know." I said sheepishly.

"I am not too familiar with all the subjects in school, so it would be better if you spoke with all the teachers face-to-face. That way, they would both be informed of your...situation....and we could find some solutions to any possible problems." He replied.

"Works for me." I grinned, showing off my impressive set of teeth. All three of them shifted a little with unease, but Jim was grinning like a kid on christmas eve.

"I'll leave you guys to that. I don't think you'll need me for that, so I'll stay here. Have fun." Dad said and patted me on the back (carefully avoiding my spikes).

I stood up again from the chair, pushing it back into posititon with my tail. Mr. Roberts grabbed his coffee cup (branded with the school's emblem) from a shelf hidden behind one of those refridgerators with the glass doors (the ones you usually find in shops filled with coke), refilled it quickly and, trying to act as normal as possible, began walking off towards the stairs to the upper floor. I followed, my claws loudly clicking against the tiled floor. I enjoyed the sound, despite fact that Mr. Roberts was eyeing me nervously because if it. It reinforced the fact that this wasn't merely any dream, but my real life and it would continue like this. I felt my scales move, my firmly attatched horns, the hoodie brushing against my back spikes. The feeling of my tail, swishing side to side behind me as I strolled along the headmaster I had known for so long.

It was a fantastic feeling.

When Mr. Roberts had pulled the sliding door to the teacher's lounge open, I stuck my head inside and announced:

"Mythological creature coming through! Hide the princess, call KnightsInShinyArmor.com and ask them to send an employee. Oh, and get Prince John too."

Someone muttered from behind a thin plywood wall a little farther down the hall "What in?" and stuck his head out so he could see what it was.

"HOLY F***ING SHIT!! I DON'T F***ING BELIEVE IT!" He screamed.

I laughed at him (who, by the way, was my PE teacher Ron) as Mr. Roberts hurried forward to calm him down. It took some time, but after he had been convinced that I would not eat him, he was pretty positive about it all. He was all jittery, but at least he hadn't browned his pants.

"Dang! Now that's some incident, ain't it?" He laughed nervously. "I guess we'll have t' work out a new PE plan for you, eh? All those new muscles n' limbs."

"Huh. I guess you're right." I said, spreading my wings slightly. "I'm not very used to flying yet, so a little extra work on that would be very useful."

"Flyin'. I'll remember tha'. You're gonna have a hell of a time later, you know. 'll be all kinds o' scientists an' stuff all over you, taking samples, poking you, using anal probes..."

"Hey! Watch it." I growled.

"Hum." He coughed amusedly. "Anyway, it'll be fun seeing you fly. S' not like I've seen that."

"Yeah. You'll probably have invented all kinds of weird exercises till then." I grinned.

"Oh, I think I have a few ideas already. You jus' wait." He laughed, made a move as if to pat me on my shoulder, but he stopped and put his hand in his pocket instead. Giving me a nod, he walked off to another part of the school.

"Sir, I could take it from here if you would like to." Jim offered.

"Please do. Due to you showing up" He shook a finger at me. "I have a lot of paperwork to do. Adding a "species" column to your info, for example.

"Yes!" Jim said, airboxing a little. He turned to me and grinned. "Let's get going then."

We did quick work of the other teachers, working our way through the school. I was getting pretty tired towards the end (I have never liked repeating something over and over again, but here I was reciting an entire day's events to everyone I met.), and having had a dictionary impaled on one of my horns by the english teacher hadn't really improved it. To top it off, we couln't find Ben. He ran off when he first saw me, and we hadn't got any opportunity to explain the situation to him.

"Where is that moron? Probably off changing his pants or something..." Jim muttered.

"Hold on a second. I think I might have an idea." I said, snapping my claws. "As dragons are good trackers, I might be able to sniff him out."

"Fabulous idea! Go ahead." Jim said and took a step back.

I closed my eyes, imagining the room around me. I took a few sniffs, and thinking of the scents as coloured trails, a number of them appeared in my mental room. Satisfied, I opened my eyes, sniffing a little more. I could distinguish several of them, for example the strong smell of coffee gliding towards us from the cafeteria. One of them, which I could describe best as mix between noteblocks and fear, seemed to fit Ben. I followed it towards the stairs, constantly sniffing. It led down to the bottom floor, ran in circles a little in the wardrobe, continued towards the cafeteria and the exit. I sighed. As it was headed towards the exit, he might have high-tailed it. Bad. The last thing I wanted right now was a scared teacher running around trying to convince people that his fellow workmates was being held hostage by a two-meter tall, red, murderous reptile.

"His scent is leading outside. I think we should check if he's gone off." I sighed.

"Oh, the idiot. He's a good teacher, but shaky-pants. That sounds just like something he would do." Jim swore and said "I hope he doesn't do something stupid."

"One way to find out. C'mon." I shook my head and started walking towards the exit. Suddenly I heard something and stopped dead in my tracks. It was a low buzz, very similar to the static talking during lunch, you know? It sounded like there was a crowd outside of the school.

"What?" Jim asked.

"I...I think there's a lot of people out there. I can hear them." I bit my lower lip. "Bad or good? Let's find out."

I strode up to the big blue door and pushed it open. The cold air outside greeted me, as well as a couple of cop cars and guns. Lots of guns. All aimed at me.

Ah, crap.

Description
I heard a small chirping sound from my left. I looked there, and to my surprise I saw a small sparrow sitting on the roof tile next to me. It was looking curiosly at me with its head tilted to one side. It did not seem to fear me one tiny bit, possibly due to the fact that it had never seen something like me before. I slowly extended one of my claws towards it, and it hopped onto it. Bringing it up to my face, I peered closer. It eyed me conspiciously for a few seconds before fluttering over to one of my horns. I glanced at it in wonder. Brave thing, that.

"Hey there, fella." I said to the bird. It chirped back in response. I smiled, gazing out over the landscape before me. The entire valley below me was covered in glistening white snow. The road that ran from one end of the valley to the other stood out like a soot streak on a white paper. Very few cars ever came by due to the fact that the highway had been moved further away, making the place where we live a very calm place. I breathed slowly, taking in the peace around me.

Sitting on the roof of our house had become a habit for me the last few days. It's one of the places that only I can reach, so it's perfect for chilling out and getting some alone time for thinking. The main reason for me sitting here now was no fancy one. I just wanted to be alone.

The sound of a car slowing down  reached my ears. I looked towards the road and there, like so many times before, the postman's bright yellow van ground to a halt next to our postboxes. A faint creak; he opened the box. Slam. The postbox slammed closed, mail delivered as usual. I flexed my tail a bit, toying with the idea of flying down and fetching the mail.

"You don't mind us taking a little trip, do you?" I asked the sparrow who was still sitting on my head.

"Chirp!" It answered gleefully.

"I'll take that as a no."

I jumped and flapped my wings to get a little speed. I could feel the sparrow holding on for dear life. The flight was not a long one, but still enjoyable. I landed by the side of the postboxes and peeked inside our. A stack of letters, a newspaper and lots of advertisements. I left the advertisements in the box (they were all useless crap anyway). Shoving the stack of letters under one of my arms and rolling up the newspaper in my claws, I flew back to the roof. As I landed, the sparrow hopped off and placed himself on an air vent right next to the chimney, where he apparently made himself comfortable and gave me a dignified look. I chuckled a bit at how intelligent he looked.
Flipping through the stack of letters, I begun sorting them in heaps. Dad's to the left, Mum's on the right and any mischievous ads that had slipped along went down the chimney into the open fire below. Not finding anything of interest, I put the letters aside and started reading the newspaper instead. As first-page news, there were politics, politics and maybe a little more politics. I sighed. Can't they have something interesting on the first page, just one time? All they ever write about is crap going on in other parts of the world, as revolutions, economy crises and dictators bombing his own cities.

What a world we live in. I thought.

A small redirecting sidenote caught my eye. "Strange sighting in the Kila valley area – Hoax or Reality?" I mumbled. "I guess that's me then." I flipped to page seven as the sidenote said, where I was met by a blurry image of a grey-blue sky with something clearly serpentine flying away at a high speed. I groaned.

"Alright. Let's see what the annoying guys with the cameras have to say." I said to the sparrow, who chirped back.

The article didn't really say much of worth. It was mainly about sighting like this that had occurred before, and a small part about hoaxes. There was a part, though, that caught my eye. It was an interview with a scientist at Uppsala to whom they had shown the picture. He had said, and I quote;

"That is a very interesting picture. If I wasn't a respected biologist, I would say that that is a DSA - Dragon Shaped Object. But, as dragons are only mythological creatures I cannot say that it would be a legit theory."

Smart guy, I thought. That's one I'd like to talk to. The rest of the interview was full of dragon references and speculations what the thing(me) in the picture could be. They wrapped it up by saying that they would be looking into the matter more, but that they were leaning towards the picture being photoshopped.

I flipped to the comics page and plowed through them, giggling at Hälge The Moose who is constantly having trouble with his horns. The sparrow, who apparently felt left out hopped over to me and placed himself on one of my horns again. He chirped loudly in my ear, apparently displeased with something, and I guessed what it was. I held up the newspaper to his level so he could read too, and he calmed down. After a few minutes, I rolled up the newspaper and threw it with the rest of the mail. Stretching my limbs, I sat up from the half-lying position I had manouvered myself into. The sparrow jumped down on my muzzle, blinked at me a few times, turned around, wagged his tailfeathers and then he flew over to a small nest fixed to the side of the second chimney. He landed gracefully, and I smiled at him.

"Jarl! Jaaaarl! Where are you? I can see your tail hanging down up there, no point in pretending you're not there." Mum called out the door.

"Blasted tail. What is it?" I called back.

"You've been sitting there for the better part of the day, and you have a phone call. Come in, I'm freezing my nose off here." She exclaimed, and shut the door. I sighed. It had been nice just being alone.

Grabbing the mail and taking a jump down to ground level, I stomped off the snow that was sticking to my talons and went inside. Mom was sitting at her worktable, painting. I threw the stack in front of her and she gestured at a phone lying on the dinner table. "It's from the school."

Aw, hell. Why would they be calling me? I picked up the phone, a little wary.

"Yes?" I said.

"Good morning, Jarl. You sound a hoarse?" I heard, recognizing my teacher's cheerful voice.

"Oh, Good morning, sir. What gives me the pleasure?"

"Bah, have I not told you to ditch that "Sir-ing" already? We're not politicians licking each others asses." He said, feigning irritation. I chuckled. Our class's teacher is an open, friendly guy who acts more like a teenager than a serious, boring adult. That's the main reason why the entire class loves him. Although, all our teachers are like that, more or less.

"Sorry, Jim. The power of habit. So, why are you calling me this merry morning?" I asked, smiling.

"To bring you both good news and bad news. The good news are that you've been selected to go for a trip to KNC up in Stockholm along with the other A-graders in Nature Science." He said in his best announcer voice.

My jaw dropped. Whoa, that's awesome! Top modern research equipment, the best labs in Sweden and only the best of the best students in the schools were selected to go there. This meant that I, along with the other students who had been selected got to go up there, use all of that stuff and see all the new research projects going on there. Every science-interested student's drool-inducing dream.

"Whoa?! Are you serious? You're not just pulling my tail here?" I bit my tounge as soon as I had said it. It just slipped out.

"Nope. Congratulations; You've just been branded a grind and a geek!" He laughed a bit at me before continuing. "What did you mean by tail, by the way?"

"Oh...eh, it's nothing. Well, it's something, but I'll tell you later. When are we going?" I said, trying to change subject.

"I have not gotten the time and date yet, but it's soon."

"Excuse me for a moment while I go insane and dance with joy." I joked. I roared "Yeah!" and made the victory sign with two of my claws raised into the air. "Okey. Done."

"Glad you like it. Be sure you do a good work up there, eh?" He said cheerfully.

"Will do. What about the bad news?" It can't be that bad, I thought.

"Ah. That. Well, you know your old scicence teacher, James? He got a job up in Stockholm, so he's leaving for that instead. You're gonna meet him one last time up at KNC, though." He said.

"What? Aw, that's crap. Well, at least he got the job he wanted." I groaned. He was the one who had boosted my interest in science and the one to thank for my high grades.

"Mh. Oh, yes, you haven't forgotten our Progress Meeting later today, eh?" He said.

Oh, shit. I had in fact forgotten that. Damn. My day just screwed up miserably.

"Er...no, of course not. I'll be there, along with..." I gestured wildly at the almanac, trying to get Ma's attention. She slapped herself on the forehead, shook her head and pointed at the ceiling. That meant dad. "my dad. And the time was?"

"Five o' clock."

"Kay'. See ya there."

"Bye." He said and hung up.

I bit my index claw and chuckled. Despite this coming out of the blue, I was actually looking forward to it. Seeing Jim's reaction would be fun, as he was very interested in fantasy and mythology. Still imagining the general reaction from the teachers, I went upstairs to talk to dad. Up the stairs, past a bookshelf and a left turn. I spotted him sitting in front of his computer with his headset on, so I tapped him lightly on his shoulder with a claw. With a yelp he jumped, snapped around and glared at me.

"Holy crap, don't scare me like that! A sharp claw on your shoulder out of nowhere is quite unnerving." He exclaimed with an emphasis on the quite.

"Sorry. Listen, I forgot that I had to go to school today, you know, for the Progress Meeting with my teacher. I was wondering if you could both drive me there and come with me? I kinda need someone who won't run off screaming at the sight of me." I shrugged.

"Can't you just fly there?" He said with a raised eyebrow. I wasn't certain about whether he was joking or not.

"No, I can't. For several reasons. I'm not that used to my wings and flying long distances, and some nutter with a Bofors cannon might get a little trigger-happy." I sighed.

"Point taken. Fine, go and get ready. We should probably get there some time before." He scratched his beard, frowning. "Bah, this will be comparable to an earthquake. I am not looking forward to this."

"I am." I said, sticking out my forked tounge and wiggling around it a little. I grinned at his unapproving expression and walked back downstairs.

Get ready? I thought. What is there to do to "Get ready"?  I have my clothes on, I don't need my bag for this school trip, and I've already brushed my teeth. Pondering, I absently smacked my claws against a doorframe. That was a bad idea. To my shock, they left centimetere-deep dents in the hard wood. Tracing my claw along the rim of one of the holes, I grunted. Seems like I have to dull those things on a regular basis. Well, at least I have something to do.

I did a quick search of the toilet cabinet for a nail clipper, and I was soon successful in securing the small device. Positioning myself on the toilet, I grasped the tip of my left index claw and pressed the nail clipper. Nothing happed. Frowning, I pressed a little harder. Still nothing. Growling in frustration, I squeezed the clipper with all my might.

BANG. The clipper flew apart in a minor explosion of twisted metal and shrapnel. Cursing heavily, I shook my right paw which was a little numb from the impact. I gathered up the twisted metal pieces, threw them in the garbage and spat at them. Okey, that did not work.

"What was that?" Ma called.

"I had an incident with the nail clipper. Nothing to worry about." I yelled back.

I examined my claw and to my disappointment, the clipper had not even left a scratch. This thing was hard.

Grumbling, I went down into the basement to the tool storage. I rummaged through a few toolboxes until I found what I was looking for. With a wry smile, I pulled out a pair of pliers. Once again grasping my claw, I squeezed the pliers. Nothing. I continued to increase the force I put behind the arms the the pliers, but the claw resisted all of my attempts. Disgusted, I threw it aside. My thoughts went to a very big, very nasty file(the kind of "immah-mess-you-up-naow, wood-piece." file), but none could be seen. I spotted a bolt cutter on the top shelf. Sighing, I reached for it. That thing was huge, and had been through a lot of things, not to mention a "re-acquiring" of a stolen car. If that doesn't work, I don't know what will.

For the third time, I jammed my claw between the blades of the bolt cutter and squeezed it. This time, something actually happened. After a few seconds, a small snap came from my claw and a piece chipped off. I brought it closer to my face, examining it. The tip was now flat, but with nasty edges. I rubbed it against the rough concrete floor and managed to smooth out the edges somewhat. Breathing a sigh of relief, I repeated the process on the rest of my seven claws. I left my feet alone, as my talons might come in handy with all the ice outside.

I flexed my claws, feeling a little strange. Remembering something, I gathered up the claw fragments, went to my room and put them in a tiny glass jar. It's a thing I do, whenever some kind of substance is malplaced or there is some left in an almost empty chemical container I salvage it and put it in one of my small glass jars. I figured dragon claw fragments went under the category "Rare Magical Non-Existent Substance", so it got an honorary spot in front of the others. Realizing that I had not looked through this cabinet for a very long time, I browsed the bottles. There was a few interesting ones. Oxalic acid, growth accelerator, a few gunpowder containers and 0.04 µg of Americum-241. That was the bottle I was most proud of. I had managed to salvage a little radioactive isotopes from two discarded fire alarms. It was not enough to do anything with, but it increased the coolness factor of my science cabinet by 1337.

My ears picked up a slight vibration from my phone, which was lying on my computer table. The low buzz was soon replaced by a loud "HAAAAAAAAAAX!" and a crash. Taking a swift step there, I tapped a button on it, silencing it. A text message? The text read;

Who are you, really? What defines a person?
What sets a human apart from...a monster?
When will a person realize who he really is? At his death bed? When someone he loves is in distress? When his very self is changed beyond anything anyone could have ever thought of?

Can a dream...become a very real, very dangerous reality?

Ponder this. You will hear from me again.

~ A friend

It felt like my blood froze. What is this? Who the hell is this?! These few, short lines scared me more than anything else I had ever seen in my entire life. Afraid that it might disappear, I quickly snatched my notepad and a pen from the table. With shaky hands, I copied the message word for word onto the paper. Placing the paper down on the table as if it was an armed bomb, I decided to try and reply to the unnerving message. Quickly pushing the buttons, I wrote;

I will return questions with questions.
Who are you? How did you get my number? What do you want?

With a shaking claw, I pressed Send. I waited for a few sweaty moments before an error message popped up.

          –Error-
Recipent Not Found.
   Please Try Again.

"Not found...?" I whispered. But...I have a text from that very number right here? How can it be "Not Found"? What on earth is going on here?

"JAAARL! We have to go now! Where are you, ya big, scaly moron?" Dad bellowed from upstairs. I jumped, startled. My thoughts raced for a second, but then I decided to wait with showing this. Best to find out a little more before scaring my parents shitless.

"Coming!" I called back, trying to keep my voice steady. I placed the phone on top of the notepad and, giving it a last worried glance, I ran upstairs.

"There you are." Dad huffed. "Now get moving. I want to get this over with."

"Yeah, yeah. Take it easy." I pulled the door opened and stepped back out into the sunlight. I stretched my wings to their full extent and sucked in the light, enjoying it to the fullest. It helped in calming me a little, and it made me feel a little better.

"Uh...I just realized something. Will you still fit in the car?" Dad said, frowning.

"I don't know." I replied, taken a little off-guard. "We'll just have to find out, eh?"

Dad just grunted and unlocked the car. Opening the front seat door, I stared disbelievingly at the seat. It was so small! I guess it's my dragon side that's messing with me, but cramming into that tiny space would be horrible. Hesitating for a second, I begun manouvering into the small space.

I pressed my wings against my back to minimize my width, grabbed my tail and ducked down with my head. Placing my first foot into the car, I stuck my tail inside. It was not cooperating and sprawled out over the drivers seat. Annoyed, I pulled it back and tried pushing it down onto the floor. It worked, but was not comfortable at all. As I was pulling the rest of my body into the car, I realized that even with my wings folded, I could not lean back on the seat as my wings protruded at least half a decimetre from my back even when folded as tightly as possible. Sure, I could sit on the edge of the seat, but that would make a seat belt hard to wear nor would it be any better for my tail. It would have to do for now, though. I really need to practice long-distance flying.

Already starting to ache in my tail, I motioned for dad to get in. He started checked something under the car first, though.

"C'mon, hurry up. My tail is hurting and my wings are cramped." I said.

"Nerves?" He asked with a slight smile.

"No, a small seat and a hurting ass. Thank god we're not going far." I grunted.

Dad chuckled slightly and pushed the key into the ignition. As the car rumbled into action, I thought about the strange message. Who could have sent that? Whoever the person was, he knew a lot about me and my thoughts on life. More importantly, he knew about me being a dragon. What if he was working for some kind of creepy organization or the government? This was some serious trouble, but I had to find out more before scaring the crap out of my parents about this. Still, I need someone I can trust, someone who I can talk to. Oh well. This would have to wait until I got home again. I pushed these unnerving thoughts from my mind and relaxed a bit.

Opening the CD compartment, I started browsing the disks. "Life's A party"? Nah. "If I Should Fall From Grace With God"? Mmmh...Pogues are good, but not now. "Swedish Classics"? Heck yes. Removing the disk from its case, I pushed it into the player. A few seconds later "We'll continue playin' Rock and Roll" was streaming out of the car speakers, causing me and dad hum along.

"So, what is your brilliant scheme then?" Dad asked during the solo.

"I don't know, really." I admitted. "Simply bust in, spread my wings and say 'F**k you , I'm a Dragon' ?"

"I don't think that's a very good idea" Dad said and started laughing.

"Maybe not. I really don't know. I'll take it as it comes." I shrugged.

I closed my eyes and relaxed, feeling my limbs go limp. Still feeling a little unnerved, I tried a meditation technique that I use to calm myself. I imagined my stress and worries as a liquid, forming at the base of my skull. I gave it a slight mental push, and it started running down my body. It traveled down my spine, flowed over my vertebrae, sapping small specks of worry from my nervous system as it went by. Suddenly something that usually doesn't happen happened. A little of it separated from the main flow and travelled out into my wings instead, starting to wash away the cramped feeling and the formidable amount of stress that had accumulated there. The rest of the liquid trickled down my chest, out into my arms and abdomen, into my stomach, and untied the knot that had formed there. It travelled down my upper arm, past the elbow, causing it to twitch a little. It spread out from the bone into the flesh around it, out into my skin, following the pattern of my scales as it continued flowing down towards my hand. I could feel the pressure building in my claws, stronger and stronger as it neared the tips. Suddenly, somthing holding it back disappeared. It surged, rushing out of my claws, as an invisible jetstream of condensed emotion. As if spurred by the success in my arms, the liquid in my hips split up, half of it rushing into my tail and the rest of it cascading down my legs. It traced along the rims of my spikes on my tail, forming the sensation of a pattern resembling beads on a chain. It slowly reached the end of my tail, spiralling down the vertebrae, and finally seeping out of the tip into the floor of the car.

A tingly sensation appeared in my legs, and I slowly breathed out. Feeling calm and relaxed, I opened my eyes, half excpecting to see some black, gooey worry-sludge slowly seeping into the floor. Of course there weren't any. To my mild surprise, I found us grinding to a halt on the school's parking lot. Rolling my shoulders, I took a deep breath. Meditation or not, this was freaking me out.

"Ready? You look..uh...well, "Pale" isn't a correct term anymore, but...less red?" Dad trailed off.

"Nah, I'm fine, it's just...Bah, who am I trying to fool? I'm quaking in my talons."

"We can still ditch this."

"You, good sir, are insane. Leeeeroy f***ng Jenkins, here we go." I exclaimed and pushed the door open. Stepping out into the parking lot, I stretched my limbs with some satisfying cracks.

"I can't help but to notice how naturally you move. It's like you've been a dragon for your entire life." Dad said while locking the car.

"Yeah, I've thought about that too. I came up with three possible alternatives. One; It was built into the transformation process in some inexplainable way. Probably included in the "Instinct Pack". Two; All those late nights of, insert citation marks here, "Theoretical Dragon Anatomy" paid off. And Three; Magic." I counted on my claws.

"Oh, yes. Magic. That stuff solves most of the inconsistencies in the world, eh?" Dad snorted. "And my dad is Bilbo the Hobbit."

"That's like comparing, well, magic to extremely advanced technology. Both may seem like magic to some, but it's only something that we can't explain. Just look at me, I'm a red and black two-meter mythological reptile. Magic? Possibly. Advanced technology that we can't hope to even begin to understand? Just as plausible as the latter, as they are so closely related to each other."

"Oh geez. My son, the Dragon Philosopher. And you're damn good at it too." Dad shook his head and started to walk towards the entrance of the school.

"Spend a few hours stuck in your room with "Plato and a Platypus walk into a Bar" and you'd be too."

"Excuse me, what? Plato and a Platypus?" Dad raised an eyebrow at me disbelievingly.

"Understanding philosphy through jokes. A very interesting read, although very confusing."

"Example, please?" Dad crossed his arms with a slight smile.

"Fine. Say we're at a convention for ideologics. Someone spills his drink over his shirt and states; Bah. Shit happens. The closest guy, who is a Buddhist replies "If shit does happen, it's not really shit." The man to the right of him, who's a Zen Buddhist says "Shit is, and is not." To which his pal, whom is also a Zen Buddhist, asks "What is the sound of shit happening, actually?". A bearded communist in the back yells "If shit happens, it's everybody's shit!" when a Creationist points around him and says "God made all this shit!". The Darwinist next to him smiles at him and claims that "This shit was once food.". The Judaist who was trying to say something before throws his arms into the air and exclaims "WHY DOES THIS SHIT ALWAYS HAPPEN TO US?!" The Stoicist next to him pats him on the back and tries to comfort him by saying "This shit is good for us!" And in the midst of all this chaos, a slightly lost Agnostic groans and says "What is this shit?"."

"Philosophy can rely on many things; Making fun of ideologies is only one." I finished with a laugh at dad's expression.

"I don't think you're crazy anymore. Now I know for a fact that you are totally nuts."

"Nuts, nutters, Philosophy in a nutshell. That's life, Dad!"

"Bah. My head hurts, you scaly moron." He huffed.

"One of the points of philosophy is to start with something so simple as to seem not worth stating, and to end with something so paradoxical that no one will believe it. This was merely stating the truth." I finished, laughing very hard.

"Shut up."

Still shaking with held-back laughter, I looked up at the imposing school building in front of me. Memories of the terms before popped up, and I sighed. Good times. I could still remember the roar of the wind in my ears as I rode down the slope outside the school on my back on a skateboard that I had loaned, and the pain in my rear from falling off halfway. Looking towards the school yard, I remembered the unpleasant memory of trying to climb one of the very small trees there, only to discover that the branch I was hanging from could not hold my weight. Hiding the broken branch from the teachers had been a pain in the ass. And here I stood, with another, most certanly, even more crazy year before me.

Coming back to reality, I opened the first of the two doors and, having to duck a bit, stepped through. Down a few meters of blue, rubber-floored hallway (That, may I add, my claws, even though dulled, left pretty substantial marks on.). Up to the second pair of doors.

"What are you waiting for? I thought dragons were supposed to be brave, fearsome creatures. Go on." Dad encouraged me.

I placed my paw upon the last big blue door, and with a final sting of hesitation, pushed it open and stepped in.

CRASH. I jumped at the sudden sound, but it was nothing compared to the mayhem-in-the-making over at the table where the teachers apparently had, up to this point, been having a meeting. Loud swearing, screaming and yelling painfully assaulted my eardrums. Out of reflex, I flattened my ears against my skull due to the discomfort caused by the noise. A little stunned by the chaos I had caused just by stepping in, I stared at my teachers.
Ben, the math teacher, was scrambling for his phone. Pamela, the swedish teacher, was screaming at the top of her lungs. Pedro, our spanish teacher was trying to get up from the floor, swearing loudly in spanish. Mr. Roberts, the headmaster, was pinching himself with a horrified expression.

What caught my eye was Jim. He wasn't screaming. He wasn't swearing. He wasn't trying to call the police. What he was doing was the most unexpected thing ever. He was, without any visible second thoughts, walking towards me, shining like a sun. He was looking so happy, I could not help to smile a bit myself. As the other teachers saw him, they started shouting for him to come back, to be careful, that I might attack. He just gestured for them to be silent. He placed himself in front of me, and took a deep breath. I realized that his emotions were so strong I could actually smell his happiness.

"I knew it. I knew it all along. They said it was fever dreams, or a figment of my imagination. I never believed them. He was real. The proof stands here." He said before he caught himself. "I'm so sorry." He coughed a little, and seemingly unaware of it, traced his fingers along a scar on his left arm. "I think I know who you are and what you meant by "pulling your tail".

"You're damn right. Thank god, someone who doesn't scream." I chuckled nervously. "What did you mean with that "You knew it all along"?"

"I..." Jim started, but he was interrupted by Mr. Roberts, who suddenly exclaimed:

"Jim, what the f*ck is going on here, and what the f*ck is that thing?!"

Jim started to answer, but I stopped him.

"I might be able to explain a little better, sir. First, sorry for the rude entry. Second; I think you need a seat before I continue."

Obviously shocked that I was able to talk, Mr. Roberts took a step back.

"W-what the f*ck are you?" He stammered.

Ironic. It's always the teachers who complain about bad language.

"If you want to know what I am, look up "Dragon" in a dictionary. I think who I am is a little more important now." I said, a little annoyed.

"Dragon?! They doesn't even exist! And yes, who the heck are you?" Mr. Roberts said, disbelievingly.

"Yet here I stand. Listen, I understand that this might be a little hard to believe, but we've known each other for almost three years now." I replied.

"I'm pretty sure I would know if I'd known a...dragon...for three years."

"So am I. But I became a dragon only nine days ago. My name is, and have always been, Jarl."

Mr. Roberts froze, jaw agape.

"I told you it would be hard to believe." I sighed, rolling my slit eyes.

"I don't believe it. Not a word of it." Mr. Roberts said through clenched teeth.

"You'd better do." Dad suddenly said. "He's gonna be in a hell of a trouble if he can't finish his education."

Mr. Roberts jumped, as if first now noticing dad.

"Wha...You..." He stammered.

"Come on. He could convince me that he's my son beyond doubt, and just didn't eat him or something. I hope you're not so thick-headed that you can't see past his scales." Dad huffed.

"Dad, please. Insults won't help."

"Fine."

Mr. Roberts coughed slightly and said:

"I... well...You obviously trust him, and for me, it's a start. But still, I am who I am. Prove it."

"I expected nothing else. My full name is Jarl Eric Gullberg. I'm in class eight green, who is supervised by Jim Arenston. You gave me a book, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn last year, which, may I add, was very good. You never told me the reason, though. I tripped during the relay race last summer and skinned my arms. Can't show you the scars, though, as they dissappeared during the transformation.  I am in the advanced math group, as well as the advanced spanish group. You have a coffee cup with the school's emblem on that you always use."

I took a breath to continue with my list, but he held up a hand and stopped me.

"I... ah, hell. Pinch my ass and call me mickey mouse. I believe you. How on earth did this happen?" He said weakly.

"Long story that will take some time to tell. Shall we sit?" I suggested.

Nodding, Mr. Roberts sat down along with Jim and Dad. During our short chat Ben had dissappeared, Pamela had sat down (she was looking scared out of her wits) and Pedro was looking at me with a curious expression.

I took a chair, turned it one-quarter of a turn so that I would not have to sit on my tail and with a deep breath, I begun telling my tale. It felt good being able to spill your beans to some adults that you knew had a little in fluence over the rest of the world. The words simply fell from my forked tounge as stones, making me lighter and lighter for every word. As I continued telling my story, I noticed a change in the smell around me. What first had been a stingy, dark smell that could best be described as fear had turned into a lighter, more calming scent. It was trust. Compassion. Understanding.
"...and the transformation started after I had squeezed the tablet. It was unpleasant, but it went quick." I said.

"How did it feel? I mean, "unpleasant" doesn't sound so bad." Pedro asked.

"Imagine ten fully loaded trucks, roaring over you at a hundred kilometers per hour, and then being tossed into a meat grinder to finally being stretched like a chewing gum and getting shot in your balls with a shotgun multiple times." I turned around and showed them the spikes on my back to empathize my words. "These buggers grew inside the body at first. Then...well, you can guess."

"Mierda." Pedro breathed with a disturbed expression. "I don't think I want to know more."

"You don't. But as they say, no pain, and I got plenty of that, no gain. After this, I think the pain is proportional to the gain. Flying is amazing." I said, smiling a little. "All my senses are much better than before. Smell, taste, vision. It's a little odd, though, as I still need my glasses, but I can see much better in the terms of colour, detail and light. Midnight is like an afternoon sunset to me."

"Well...this is a lot to take in. What are you planning to do now?" Mr. Roberts asked.

"Go back to semi-normal life, why else would I be here? If I wanted to live like mythologlical dragons, I would be long gone and hiding in a cave hoarding gold, right?" I chuckled.

"I...oh, you can't be serious. You don't mean going back here, to school, right?" Mr. Roberts asked.

"That's exactly what I mean. Why not? If I'm a dragon, why can't there be more? Hiding in their homes, scared of what society will think of them. Rejected or contained, in their self-imposed prisons. Well, I'm not going to be like that. I'm going to show the world that dragons are real and sentient, not some kind of feral beasts from stories, flying around causing destruction and mayhem. I was depressed and practically ready to jump off a cliff a few weeks ago, but along comes this stone and saves my life. I have no doubt that there are more people like me out there, who goes every waking moment of their lives thinking, hoping and longing. Why should I deny them what may save them from agony and pain all their time awake? To know that there are dragons out there and that they exist will definately give many people something to live for. Sir, the world has not seen anyting this big since we landed on the moon, and that was, what, fifty years ago? The world needs a change, something so big that it will shake in its very foundation and rise again into a new age. I am that change. Why should I deny the world that? And the thought of living confined in my house the rest of my life makes me shiver with fear." I finished.

"I have not heard words like that since I was at a philosopher's speech, and he was talking about something I understood before. You are damned passionate about this. But still, is the world ready? Jarl. You have my support." Mr. Roberts concluded.

"Thank you. I'm going to need it." I said. It warmed my heart, having Mr. Roberts supporting me like that.

"I can't imagine how horrible you must feel. To be...that." Pamela said, looking at me as if I had to hate every moment of my existence.

"Hey. I don't feel horrible at all. In fact, this is the best thing that could have happened to me, ever. I'm not regretting that I picked up that stone, and I never will. It was as if I was not complete before, but no longer. I am what I'm supposed to be now. This "that" is me now, and I love every second of it." I responded, putting an end to the discussion. "Now, what about our current situation? How is this going to be handled? Cause' I'm coming back here, no options avaliable." I asked.

Mr. Roberts clasped his hands together and rested his forehead on them, deep in thought.

"Even though you're so dead set on a, insert quotation marks here, "normal" life, we can't ignore the fact that you are what you are. No offense." He said.

"None taken, sir."

"For my part, I feel that we should go on as normal. But I'm not the dragon here, that's you. You probably know more about what should be done than me, as this situation is...new." He looked up at me again.

"You're lucky to not have lost your speech. To teach you two languages all over again would have been a pain." Pamela said with a wry smile.

"You're still stuck in the common misconception that dragons are some kind of animals. Theoretically, I could not lose speech, as dragons are, literature-wise, not mute. Nor are they simple beasts. They...we...are are as sentient as any human. The proof stands here before you." I spread my arms.

Mr. Roberts cleared his throat, giving me a look that said "Get going".

"Hrm. Well, we have the problem of introduction. Any ideas?" I asked.

"You come here at the thirteenth as usual. We'll tell the classes what to expect, and if they don't believe us, which I'm sure they won't, a dragon walking in through the school's entrance will be pretty convincing. As I said, we go on as normal." Mr. Roberts made a quick note in his noteblock. "Anything else?"

"Uh...yes, well, not really. I was kinda hoping you would know." I said sheepishly.

"I am not too familiar with all the subjects in school, so it would be better if you spoke with all the teachers face-to-face. That way, they would both be informed of your...situation....and we could find some solutions to any possible problems." He replied.

"Works for me." I grinned, showing off my impressive set of teeth. All three of them shifted a little with unease, but Jim was grinning like a kid on christmas eve.

"I'll leave you guys to that. I don't think you'll need me for that, so I'll stay here. Have fun." Dad said and patted me on the back (carefully avoiding my spikes).

I stood up again from the chair, pushing it back into posititon with my tail. Mr. Roberts grabbed his coffee cup (branded with the school's emblem) from a shelf hidden behind one of those refridgerators with the glass doors (the ones you usually find in shops filled with coke), refilled it quickly and, trying to act as normal as possible, began walking off towards the stairs to the upper floor. I followed, my claws loudly clicking against the tiled floor. I enjoyed the sound, despite fact that Mr. Roberts was eyeing me nervously because if it. It reinforced the fact that this wasn't merely any dream, but my real life and it would continue like this. I felt my scales move, my firmly attatched horns, the hoodie brushing against my back spikes. The feeling of my tail, swishing side to side behind me as I strolled along the headmaster I had known for so long.

It was a fantastic feeling.

When Mr. Roberts had pulled the sliding door to the teacher's lounge open, I stuck my head inside and announced:

"Mythological creature coming through! Hide the princess, call KnightsInShinyArmor.com and ask them to send an employee. Oh, and get Prince John too."

Someone muttered from behind a thin plywood wall a little farther down the hall "What in?" and stuck his head out so he could see what it was.

"HOLY F***ING SHIT!! I DON'T F***ING BELIEVE IT!" He screamed.

I laughed at him (who, by the way, was my PE teacher Ron) as Mr. Roberts hurried forward to calm him down. It took some time, but after he had been convinced that I would not eat him, he was pretty positive about it all. He was all jittery, but at least he hadn't browned his pants.

"Dang! Now that's some incident, ain't it?" He laughed nervously. "I guess we'll have t' work out a new PE plan for you, eh? All those new muscles n' limbs."

"Huh. I guess you're right." I said, spreading my wings slightly. "I'm not very used to flying yet, so a little extra work on that would be very useful."

"Flyin'. I'll remember tha'. You're gonna have a hell of a time later, you know. 'll be all kinds o' scientists an' stuff all over you, taking samples, poking you, using anal probes..."

"Hey! Watch it." I growled.

"Hum." He coughed amusedly. "Anyway, it'll be fun seeing you fly. S' not like I've seen that."

"Yeah. You'll probably have invented all kinds of weird exercises till then." I grinned.

"Oh, I think I have a few ideas already. You jus' wait." He laughed, made a move as if to pat me on my shoulder, but he stopped and put his hand in his pocket instead. Giving me a nod, he walked off to another part of the school.

"Sir, I could take it from here if you would like to." Jim offered.

"Please do. Due to you showing up" He shook a finger at me. "I have a lot of paperwork to do. Adding a "species" column to your info, for example.

"Yes!" Jim said, airboxing a little. He turned to me and grinned. "Let's get going then."

We did quick work of the other teachers, working our way through the school. I was getting pretty tired towards the end (I have never liked repeating something over and over again, but here I was reciting an entire day's events to everyone I met.), and having had a dictionary impaled on one of my horns by the english teacher hadn't really improved it. To top it off, we couln't find Ben. He ran off when he first saw me, and we hadn't got any opportunity to explain the situation to him.

"Where is that moron? Probably off changing his pants or something..." Jim muttered.

"Hold on a second. I think I might have an idea." I said, snapping my claws. "As dragons are good trackers, I might be able to sniff him out."

"Fabulous idea! Go ahead." Jim said and took a step back.

I closed my eyes, imagining the room around me. I took a few sniffs, and thinking of the scents as coloured trails, a number of them appeared in my mental room. Satisfied, I opened my eyes, sniffing a little more. I could distinguish several of them, for example the strong smell of coffee gliding towards us from the cafeteria. One of them, which I could describe best as mix between noteblocks and fear, seemed to fit Ben. I followed it towards the stairs, constantly sniffing. It led down to the bottom floor, ran in circles a little in the wardrobe, continued towards the cafeteria and the exit. I sighed. As it was headed towards the exit, he might have high-tailed it. Bad. The last thing I wanted right now was a scared teacher running around trying to convince people that his fellow workmates was being held hostage by a two-meter tall, red, murderous reptile.

"His scent is leading outside. I think we should check if he's gone off." I sighed.

"Oh, the idiot. He's a good teacher, but shaky-pants. That sounds just like something he would do." Jim swore and said "I hope he doesn't do something stupid."

"One way to find out. C'mon." I shook my head and started walking towards the exit. Suddenly I heard something and stopped dead in my tracks. It was a low buzz, very similar to the static talking during lunch, you know? It sounded like there was a crowd outside of the school.

"What?" Jim asked.

"I...I think there's a lot of people out there. I can hear them." I bit my lower lip. "Bad or good? Let's find out."

I strode up to the big blue door and pushed it open. The cold air outside greeted me, as well as a couple of cop cars and guns. Lots of guns. All aimed at me.

Ah, crap.