I didn't learn to travel using floo powder — this was a one-time case due to my extreme concentration on escape and survival. But this suggests that floo powder contains either phoenix feathers, which is unlikely considering the scale at which they sell it, or some unknown ingredient connected to space. All this is interesting, but not my level yet. So I decided to rest and combine pleasure with usefulness.
— "I'm happy to present to you the World Dragon Reserve!" — the guide got excited before our tourist group consisting of thirty people. We were in Romania, where the largest reserve containing dragons is located. Occupying an area of five and a half thousand square kilometers and breeding almost all types of dragons that haven't perished in the storm of centuries, it truly rightfully occupies this place.
There are quite a few smaller reserves — in Sweden, in Englan, in the USSR, China. Because dragons aren't just fangs, claws, tails and flame second in power only to hellfire, but also several tons of precious ingredients.
A dried dragon heart is used in creating cores for wands, organs - in brewing potions, skin - for creating status or protective clothing and equipment, and meat - for expensive dishes in restaurants.
"Unfortunately, they won't let us into the reserve itself, but we'll be able to look at dragons in enclosures. Mainly these are females who recently laid eggs, who become quite aggressive during incubation and raising offspring. And also, these are the strongest and most restless dragons. But don't be afraid, ladies and gentlemen, special barriers will protect us."
— "Is it right that they're kept in cages? They're intelligent, aren't they?" — Apolline asked, standing next to Jacqueline. Unfortunately, Patrick's father had business and so he couldn't come with us along with his son. By the way, I finally found out his name — Alain Wolfhorn. Yes, what a great guy I am, learning Patrick's father's name and surname after so long of knowing each other. But Apolline won't tell — she doesn't want to say her surname, the pest.
— "No-no, beautiful girl and her no less beautiful mother," - our guide, Riliero or Riviero, I don't remember, began hitting on them. I have a terrible memory for names. Oh no, my memory is excellent, I just didn't give a damn about his name. And he's trying in vain — Jacqueline is an experienced girl who knows her worth. She could only be attracted by incredible charisma and getting approval from Apolline. "Dragons are non-intelligent magical creatures. Yes, sometimes they behave quite cunningly and thoughtfully, but all this is their instincts."
And here, Libiero, you're blatantly lying. Yes, young dragons don't have intelligence, just as human babies don't have it. And you don't let them live to adulthood, you cut them down early. No, I'm not stupid enough to pity a beast that would gladly crunch on me. But you shouldn't substitute concepts either. Especially since you wouldn't catch an intelligent dragon. Though you might kill one - experience doesn't drink itself away, but not without losses.
— "How do dragons fly, they're so heavy? And shoot fire?" — asked a dark-haired boy in a yellow shirt and beige shorts about nine years old, who stood next to his father.
— "Good question! Really good. The thing is that dragons' abilities are half magical. Under dragons' bellies there's a special organ whose operating principle mages can't explain - it's only known that it's not magical and allows lightening the dragon's body to a level where its strength and wingspan are sufficient for flight. In the mouth, behind the cheeks, are located two glands. They release liquid that ignites itself with high temperature when mixed and in contact with air. And dragon skin and bones are very strong by themselves. But at the same time, all its abilities are further enhanced by magic. Fortunately, due to lack of intelligence they can't use it consciously."
— "Why fortunately?" — the same boy asked.
— "Because to stun one dragon, you need about ten experienced dragonologists who know how and where to strike. That's just to stun," — "not kill" was clearly readable in his eyes. But he's understating again. All this works with young dragons, up to twenty years old, who not only haven't fully grown yet — and their skin hasn't had time to sufficiently strengthen and roughen. But also the fact that with age they gain not only intelligence but magical power that can exceed an archmage's reserve.
Such an old monster, usually over 200-300 years old, can be killed either by cunning or by superior force. No wonder why killing a dragon was once considered a feat and honor, and why they don't let them mature. I stopped listening further, walking with Ariel between cages with activated astral vision. I needed to choose the oldest dragon, preferably with skin beginning to strengthen. Species didn't concern me as much. What's the use if a Welsh dragon easily breaks a Horntail's horns with an age difference of several years?
And so, I stopped near an enclosure around which was the largest restrictive line — twenty meters. The beauty shone brighter than all, and I didn't go unnoticed.
— "What, do you like it?" — the guide naturally asked me. The dragonologists who followed next to us so no one would stick their hands in a dragon's mouth, literally speaking, didn't talk to us. They generally looked stern, gloomy and were covered with numerous scars, mainly from burns. Burns from dragon flame are almost untreatable with wand magic. — "This is an Opal-Eye Antipodean, one of the rarest dragons not only in this reserve but in the entire world. It's also rightfully considered the most beautiful, thanks to its pearl-like scales and opal-like eyes, for which it got its name."
— "Yes, a beauty," I answered. — "Why can you approach other enclosures, but not this one?"
— "You see, boy, due to its rarity, we can't... well, can't release it into the reserve," — aha, you can't use it for ingredients until it fertilizes a female. But it won't do that because I sense a spark of intelligence in it. — "But at the same time, this dragon is very strong and capable of breaking through protective barriers."
— "I'll just stand here then, take a look," — Pediero was trying to hit on Ariel, but she wasn't interested since she was watching me with both eyes so I wouldn't run to the dragon. And I wasn't thinking of doing that - I just needed to take a matrix, fortunately a couple of spells were already stored in memory. But the Antipodean easily deflected my charms. It did this consciously, not just blocked by skin. I looked into its eyes and used mind magic to transmit a message with a request not to resist, saying I didn't want to harm it. With veela aura I empathized that same calm-joyful feeling I used to pacify beasts. Judging by the response, this didn't work, at least not as needed. We communicated not with words but with images, and if translated into words, it came out something like this:
"Why should I help you, child of enslavers?" — it asked me.
"Because I don't want to do anything bad to you?" — I answered.
"I don't care what you wanted to do. Why should I allow this?"
"Then what do you want in return?"
"Freedom."
"Why don't you leave yourself? You're intelligent, which means strong."
"Was wounded by kin. Humans caught," — came the brief answer.
"I can't free you, but I can heal you if you promise not to interfere with me and not harm people or release other dragons," — I answered. Young dragons can't lie, especially in mental communication - that's the lot of old monsters. If it says it won't, then it won't.
"No! You kill us, eat us!"
"You do the same. But we don't let you go extinct," — I answered and began to leave.
"Wait, child, I agree!"
In the end, I managed to take the matrix, even though I had to exhaust my reserve with four minor healings. Fortunately, the dragon was far enough away and it was sunny. So the small illumination from the charms wasn't noticed. I didn't care whether it escaped or not - mages stick their heads in dragons' mouths themselves, many of them lose their lives every year. All because of the considerable money they pay dragonologists. If they can't keep one of them in a cage, well, let them not bite off more than they can chew. Especially since it's one thing to slaughter non-intelligent creatures - I can agree with that, but intelligent ones... it's disgusting. Better to just kill them if they consider them dangerous.
Of course, I won't be able to transform into a dragon for several more years, even for a couple of seconds. But it's better to have a matrix when you don't need it than not have it when necessary. Especially such a useful and powerful one. My first matrix was... a rooster. As a symbol of dawn, it can repel or weaken demons, as well as basilisks. And it seemed like a useless creature.
— "Well, how did you like it?" — Ariel asked me and Apolline when we returned home by portkey and stopped feeling nauseous. Actually, only my friend was nauseous — I was already used to mages' sophisticated attractions called apparition.
— "Of course! What could be better than huge fire-breathing monsters?!" — I exclaimed.
— "I felt sorry for them, they're kept in cages and not released to their kin," — the girl complained.
— "They're beasts, wild ones at that — you shouldn't think they'd pity us in the same situation," — Jacqueline began comforting her daughter.
— "I agree, humans are much more dangerous and cruel," — I said and got a smack on the head. Why doesn't anyone like the truth?
***
And the next day in the newspaper "Magical News," which we subscribe to by owl post, there was a headline on the front page about the escape of a rare and dangerous dragon and a round reward if someone reported its whereabouts. A large wizard photo of the beautiful lizard was attached.
Judging by how journalists were surprised by the absence of casualties among mages, the dragon kept its promise. But journalists turned out to be bastards in the magical world too, judging by their hidden dissatisfaction between the lines due to the lack of victims. Journalism, journalism never changes.
***
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