Hello!
This is one of my short stories. I made it up in half an hour for school work, remember that I'm Swedish so neither the grammar or the spelling is going to be excellent. There is a secret message hidden if you can find it.
And for those of you that only know the imperial system: 1 decimetre is around 3.93 inch
Tim sat in the shadow of a well. He was of average length with dark and short hair that looked like it had never seen a comb.He had pointy ears and big dark eyes with a slight glimpse of a golden colour. He was wearing a jacket that was far to big for him but he was very keen of keeping it.
But the stunning thing about him was a pair of wings growing out of his back through a hole in the jacket. They where two heads taller than him and reached down to his knees. The feathers had all different colours, they crackled by colour whenever he moved.
He locked a bit like a weasel in the way he moved. He was an orphan but he strongly believed that the jacket he was wearing once had belonged to his father.
At the moment, he was bored to death. He was the kind of boy that always needed to be busy and never sit still. One could imagine Tim as the kind of boy doing mischief along with a pair of friends but that was totally the wrong picture of him.
He sighed of boredom again, then looking quickly at the well behind him when he heard a noise. The well was deep and there was no way of telling what was hiding at its bottom. Tim quickly moved away from the well and got dazzled by the sun. To escape the bright light, he went into the forest behind him.
The trees grew tight and only let in a few beams of daylight. Everything was covered by moss or climbing plants. The leafs of the bushes close to the ground shuddered as animals moved a round. Beautiful sounds echoed on the trees as birds sang their songs. The forest glowed of life.
A few miles behind him there was a town. Tim only liked big towns with lots of places to hide ans high walls to climb, and this town hadn't got either of those.
Tim wandered further into the forest and suddenly saw an archway made out of stone. The archway was a part of the remnants of an ancient ruin, forgotten since long ago and hidden among the leafs. Tim could see stangely shaped stones lying below the bushes and a stone floor beneath the moss and ferns.
Tim found himself a comfortable stone and sat down.
He had nowhere to go, he hadn't got any friends or family and he had grown up in a huge forest further north. He found it difficult to make friends with anyone, boys and girls of his own age, aunts, toddlers, ladies, uncles, middle aged people, oldsters, because of the things that made him different. His wings kind of made him stuck out in a crowd. That made it a bit hard to walk along a street and pass unnoticed.
There where other of his kind but they where hard to find and not commonly found. Without realizing it, he had made himself hard to find. He did not knew what normal people thought about him and he was not about to find out.
Tim sighed while thinking of this. He saw something that looked like an empty fountain. The design was complex, different patterns weaving into each other, but at the top of the fountain there was something that did not belong there. He did not hesitate, he ran forth and climbed up to the top.
The object at the top of the fountain was... a shaggy and threadbare brown bag. It was only a decimetre high with a string tightly wrapped around the top to keep it closed. It was definitely filled with something and it looked heavy.
Tim curiously grabbed the bag and found that it barely weighed anything at all. He sat down at the fountain since it obviously was not coming any water from it. He opened the bag.
It was difficult to tell what was inside. It was glimmering and sparkling. The moment he opened it, a sound seemed to rise. It sounded like very vague and barely noticeable voices.
"Dust" said Tim, "it looks like dust". He did not meant the normal kind of dust that always is around. He shut the bag and put it in his pocket, just because it felt right.
This was interesting and he started to think about how the bag had gotten here and what it was. The word dust echoed in his mind over and over. He decided to explore the ruins for further clues.
He spent all day exploring and looking at runes written on the walls. Tim could read runes, it was the language he had grown up with. Suddenly, in the late afternoon, he found a writing that seemed to refer to the word dust. While he read a surprised look spread along his face. He was fascinated by the writing but most of all the last word that confirmed some of his thoughts:
Dragon Dust
Tim suddenly realized what he was holding and the bag suddenly felt heavier. He read some of the writing out loud to himself.
"Dragons are creatures of nature. When they die they turn into dust so that they can be released in the evening breeze and be reunited with the nature."
Tim knew what he had to. He also, in some kind of way knew that dragon dust had magical powers and could give its owner what ever one desired. but that was wrong. He went to a big cliff in the same moment as the sun sank behind the mountains. He took the bag, opened it and released the dragon dust in the wind. He could hear a faint sound of a dragon but then stopped moving ans said:
"Goodness, I think i breathed some of it!
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