Trinne has lived in Grok her whole life. She has never known anything other than Fa's business, making 'dragon-wear'. But Trinne knows it is time to leave. She can feel war coming, and has a sneaking suspicion it is from neighbouring region Agron. The only way that Grok has a chance of winning this war is by getting help from another world, a world that is only spoken of in hushed whispers, for to get to this world Trinne must cross Gap. Something no-one has done before. When Fa won't listen to her, she realises that she must run away. And so on the night of the full moon, she does.
- I am entering this into the Other Worlds fantasy competiton so likes and faves will be appreciated more than ever. Comments too, of course. I heart feedback. And don't forget to mention any movellas of yours you want me to check out! -


2. ONE

The dragon was huge. Enormous. Bigger than the usual malnourished wreck you got around here. It dwarfed all of Fa’s other clients, made them seem like tiny trivial objects despite the fact they had heads longer than Fa and tails twice that size.

The gigantic dragon was here for a saddle-and-bridle fitting, the usual. Except with something this size it was anything but ‘usual’. The owner was told we might be all day, that he should come back at sundown. The only reason Fa was doing such a hard job was that a handmade unique saddle cost a lot of money, and he would make a good profit from this beast.

All the others in the queue were just here for standard issue dragon-wear. I took the money from them and handed them their items while Fa got started on measuring out our new client.

Soon I had dealt with everyone else and started to make my way over to Fa.

“Trinne! Look out.” said Fa.

I ducked just in time to avoid a great dragon tail smashing me right in the face.

I picked myself up and dusted myself down before walking over to the side of the dragon, ready to grab the other end of Fa’s measuring tape.


It did take all day to get the dragon’s saddle-and-bridle ready, but in the end I was surprised it didn’t take longer.

The owner arrived at the door smiling, a big sack of shiny new Gyllen in hand. Fa accepted the payment and started to count out the Gyllen.

“Yeah, that should cover it.”

Fa didn’t sound bothered or enthusiastic, but I could see by the little light in his eyes that the sack did a lot more than ‘cover it’.

The dragon and dragon-wear were handed to the owner who promptly started to walk away. Just before he leapt on to his dragon to fly up in the air I caught a glimpse of small tattoo on his right shoulder.


Once Fa and I were home, he started re-counting the money. Not that there was much he could do about anything, just as a way of calming his paranoia. I watched him count, putting it all into separate piles. And as I did I noticed something.

These Gyllen weren’t even real.

Not real at all.

I quickly told Fa and he looked at me in a state of utter disbelief. As soon as he looked properly he realised, but it was obvious I wondered how he hadn’t noticed before.

It didn’t matter anyway; all that mattered was that Fa had been cheated out of near 1000 Gyllen. That wasn’t good. Not good at all.


As I lay in bed later that night I remembered something. That man’s tattoo.

It was Agron region.

Maybe the rumours of war were more than just rumours...

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