Ironback Dragon: A Short Story

The world does not end with a whisper, or with a bang, but rather with a chorus of sirens that build up into a dull roar. The ground quakes beneath Sofia Brown’s cot and the air is hot, making her tent feel like a oven slowly cooking her alive. She’s up in a second, heart pounding and skin already soaked in sweat from the heat. There 's shouting outside as the rest of the soldiers in her tent start to wake. Charles, the commander of her unit, is already shoving on his boots with a calculated hurriedness. “Everyone, up!” he roars. She’s dressed, hair pulled up into a frizzy ponytail, and lacing her left shoe by the time every soldier is awake. Charles tosses Sofia her rifle and she slings it around her shoulder. Midnight raids are not uncommon,

She also named the Ironback dragon, the largest breed of Dragons and arguably the most dangerous, Jonathan. “John, for short,” she had said, grinning wickedly. Officer Sofia Brown was most certainly wild. James, himself, has been stationed at Camp Ironback for three months, much of which has either been patrols, defense against midnight raids, or waiting for patrols or midnight raids. Camp Ironback, in all terms, is a rather uneventful camp if you aren’t involved with the dragon taming. He is almost used to the waiting, by now. That’s what war is mostly, waiting between raids and chaos, but never at ease. He’s constantly on pins and needles in anticipation of the next bout of noise. Officer Sofia Brown is sitting alone at the corner bench in the cafeteria tent when he walks in, late for lunch rations. No one else is sitting at the benches except for Newton who’s sketching madly while talking to the heavyset cook currently pouring the leftovers into bowls for dinner.