The street was busy as Daekhota watched the Foreigner emerge from the hospital. James squinted and held up a hand to the intense sun. Daekhota was not surprised, the man had been cooped up inside for days since he had been rescued from the crash of his craft.

  “Welcome to Tolilam, James,” he said.

  The Foreigner did not reply, merely gave him a toothless, polite smile. He doesn’t understand, he thought. This is going to be interesting.

  Daekhota gestured with his hand towards the street. “Follow me.”

  The two men walked along the dirt road. James looked on the sights with interest. He stopped at times to marvel at what was on sale at market stalls or to look into what was being cooked on charcoal firepits.

  He could not help but smile at the Foreigner’s intrigue. Something told him there was an innocence to the man, a kind of sensitivity.

  They arrived at a mill. Two men pushed wooden handles, turning a stone wheel. Flour poured slowly from between the two stone discs and was collected on leather mats placed around the base.

  The Foreigner pointed at the mill wheel and asked something in his language. Daekhota guessed he wanted to know their word for the contraption. “Kor-mora,” said Daekhota.

  “Kor-mora,” James said slowly. He repeated the word a few times to himself. “Flour mill,” he said, turning to Daekhota.

  Daekhota frowned.

  The Foreigner pointed again. “Flour mill. Kor-mora.”

  “Flour… milla,” Daekhota tried.

  James laughed, but not in such a way as to insult him. “Flour mill.”

  “Flour mill,” said Daekhota.

  James clapped his hands and smiled. “Ena! Ena!”

  “I ear good,” said Daekhota.

  The Foreigner looked at him with surprise. “Miyan?” he asked with a knowing smile.

  Daekhota gave him a nod. “Yes.”

  The Foreigner beamed from ear to ear, he hopped back into the street. Daekhota hurried to follow him, nervous that it could have been a ploy to escape. He kept his composure, seeming to merely march after the man.

  He pointed at a horse, his eyebrows raised. “Horse.”

  “Ranu,” said Daekhota.

  “Ranu!” James exclaimed. The horse’s shoulder flinched in surprise.

  Daekhota laughed. “Horssse.”

  The Foreigner crossed the street again. This time he found a brown dog that was looking for scraps of food along the edges of the street. “Dog!” James exclaimed.

  “Henu,” said Daekhota.

  They went like this along the street, trading words in each other's languages for almost an hour. The Foreigner seemed to have a veracious appetite for learning. After a while, he started pointing to things and using the Sehtalen word for them.

  “You learn well,” said Daekhota. He smiled and shook a fist.

  James only smiled back, he seemed to get his meaning even if he did not fully understand his words.

  It won’t be long before he can hold an entire conversation, thought Daekhota.

  He bought the Foreigner a pot of dumplings and one for himself. They made their way to a nearby garden. Daekhota sat on a rock, while the Foreigner stood dumb founded by the garden. He took his time looking at the ornate construction, the carefully groomed trees and plants. The winding path of white gravel that snaked its way through the garden. Birds sung and fluttered about, their brights blues, greens, and reds like lanterns at the summer festival.

  It’s been a long time I’ve really appreciated all of this myself, Daekhota admitted. It’s like I am almost seeing my home through the Foreigner’s eyes.

  “James, you should sit and eat,” he said, gesturing to the other half of the rock.

  “Ena.” The Foreigner took one more look at the garden before setting himself down.

  James went to grab one of the dumplings with his fingers, but Daekhota stopped him.

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  “Like this,” said Daekhota. He took the square of banana leaf from his own pot and used it to pinch one of the dumplings. He showed it to the Foreigner before taking a bite from it.

  James nodded and fumbled with his own leaf. Eventually he caught on and was able to pick up one of the dumplings. He took a bite. “Good,” he said. A heartbeat later the Foreigner began breathing from his mouth and wafting his free hand at it. “Hot. Hot!”

  “Kali,” said Daekhota. “It will make you breathe like a drake.”

  James coughed, drooling from his lips. His face had turned read and beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.

  Daekhota could only laugh. What little constitutes these white devils have. Certainly not from the north.

  “I think I’m dying," James said in his language.

  “You,” said Daekhota, “eat like a baby.” He pointed at James and then to one of the dumplings in his pot. “You bite, it bite.”

  James laughed through a coughing fit. “Ena… ena.”

  Daekhota finished his dumplings, but chose not to encourage the Foreigner to eat more. Little by little, the medicine will go down more easily. He remembered his mother saying that to him as a child. They all had, growing up. “Talen-talen, naram moya ena,” he said to James.

  At least the poor man had stopped sweating and drooling.

  He took the pots back to the stall and walked James back along the street. The Foreigner pointed out more things, speaking their Sehtalen words. His recall of the words was almost perfect. Daekhota only needed to correct him a handful of times.

  They neared the hospital when a drake flew overhead. It called out, the sound screeching across the area.

  The Foreigner seemed to jump out of his own skin and cowered. He looked at the large silhouette of the drake as it passed. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph…” he said. He tapped his right hand across his chest at fore spots, up-down-left-right. He backed up until his back hit a wooden post, causing him to flinch. “Sorakum?” he said, pointing with a shaking hand.

  Daekhota looked at him with wonder. He’s never seen a drake before. Like a child seeing one for the first time. “Come, James,” he said.

  He led the Foreigner towards the stables where the drake was circling her descent. They stood and watched as the creature neared the ground and stretched her wings to beat violently, slowing to a graceful landing.

  “It’s a bloody dragon…” James whispered. He pointed at the drake. “Dragon.”

  Daekhota nodded towards the drake. “Sorakum,” he said.

  …

  “It’s a bloody dragon…” James breathed. He stared in awe at the beast. It was like looking at the living, breathing version of something he had only ever seen as an illustration in a book. Fairy tales told by candle-light. The emblem of the Welsh flag. And here it was, flying, walking, and growling.

  Dust blew into the air in gusts as the dragon huffed from its large nostrils. The huge wings folded as it walked on four limbs towards a wooden structure. Its dark green scales shuffled and glistened like polished shards of slate in the sunlight.

  “Ura,” said Daekhota as he began to walk in the direction of the dragon.

  “Wait, what?” James hurried after him. “You’re not seriously–”

  “Naya ena, Na-tol,” Daekhota said with a smile.

  James skipped up to Daekhota’s heel, but was keen to keep the man between him and large beast. Its head was about the size of a large boulder. Amber eyes, like a cats, watched him as he approached. The dragon paused, turning her head towards him. A breeze blew at his face, bringing with it the scent of ash and fire.

  Daekhota walked up to the dragon and caressed its muzzle. The creature pushed back against his hand and cocked its head, enjoying the petting like a horse or a dog might.

  “Ura,” Daekhota said, gesturing for him to come forward.

  James’s eyes went wide. “No. Absolutely not. I refuse.”

  The tall man, Azael, appeared from the wooden structure. He laughed. “Nahum sorakum, ena, Na-tol?” It was a taunt. A challenge.

  James looked away from Azael and eyed up the dragon. He closed his eyes with dread. “Lord help me,” he breathed. James opened his eyes and stepped forward. With every step, the dragon watched him intently. Those amber eyes seemed to bore into his soul. The mouth opened, revealing teeth that might as well have been an armoury of swords. A pale pink tongue licked its maw and the creature yawned. As the mouth closed, pale smoke escaped in wisps.

  “Damn thing’s going to cook me,” James complained under his breath. His heart thundered in his chest, and his hands shook.

  Daekhota nodded when James stood before the head of the dragon. “Ena naya,” he cooed to James. “Lanu-a sorakum.” He stoked her neck and jaw, demonstrating.

  James nodded. “Alright.”

  Daekhota stepped back, allowing James to stand where he had been. His hand trembled as he raised it. The dragon grumbled, a deep sound that came from the hulking chest. He touched the neck, large scales at the top gave way to a leathery skin before more scales of a smoother pattern formed a protective shield that ran from her throat and down to her chest. The skin was warm. He stroked her neck, feeling how she pushed against his hand. He felt her pulse, slow and strong.

  Her taloned feet shuffled and the dragon pushed against him harder. A grumble like a purr emanated from her throat. Her jaw opened a little and she let out a slight screech.

  Daekhota returned to his side and stroked her jaw. “Ena naya. Lanu sorakum, Na-tol.”

  James was in awe. The dragon was so huge and powerful, but also gentle. “She’s beautiful,” he said. He continued to rub her neck and scratched behind her jaw. The dragon lolled her head towards him. “Oh, you like that?”

  Without notice, the drake bolted forward, shoving James to the ground with the edge of her wing. Daekhota had also needed to hop out of the way.

  “James, you heart?” asked Daekhota.

  James pushed himself up out of the dirt, and rubbed at the shoulder the wing had clipped. “Yeah, I’m alive.”

  Azael threw the dragon what looked like a whole chicken. The dead bird disappeared into the wide mouth and was swallowed whole.

  “Azael,” Daekhota bellowed, “hera talen nahum? Nahum vela naya Na-tol.”

  The tall man smirked as he threw the dragon another chicken. “Ena talen naya,” Azael called back.

  Azael turned and went inside the structure once again. Daekhota sighed. “Heart good?” he asked James.

  “Ena,” James replied, nodding.

  They returned to the hospital and Daekhota let him inside. “James,” said Daekhota. “Me. Good. Tu?”

  James nodded. “Ena umm naya ena?”

  Daekhota smiled and clapped him on the shoulder.

  “Good bye,” said James.

  Daekhota looked confused until James waved his hand and then he seemed to understand. He bowed his head. “Ura hara naya, James.”

  James watched as Daekhota closed the door, leaving him right back where he started. Inside.

  He sat on his bed, numb. “I saw a blood dragon!” he exclaimed.