They flew for the rest of the day, over the vast land of Australia and across a small ocean into what seemed like one of the Asian countries that surrounded the north coast. They landed on a remote island and spent the night.

Dale was finding the whole experience a little boring. He had grown used to Garathon and his rider and they often talked. He still wanted to go home but with every passing day the hope seemed less and less likely. So he didn't dwell on it, trying to think positive instead.

They winged their way into India, keeping away from everyone and anything. Garathon was a surprisingly stealthy dragon for his size. When still he could pass as a rock or outcrop from a distance and when flying during the day he could hide amongst the clouds. When there weren't any they would walk through the forests until appropriate cover came their way.

On the fourth night they passed the coast of the red sea and into Africa. Garathon found a secluded cove and glided down towards it, landing with skid. Dale slid off his shoulder and landed, knees buckling slightly from the time spent in the saddle. He cradled his broken arm as a jolt of pain shot through it at the landing. Barrack slid of calmly after him.

"So Dale, how have you been enjoying you're trip around this world so far?" he asked, gathering some wood from one of Garathon's saddlebags.

Dale watched him set up the fire before answering. Once the wood had been set into a tepee shape Barrack stepped back and watched as Garathon set it alight. The dragon's large head moved down towards the pile. He opened his maw and a strange clacking sound came from his throat, followed by a bolt of fire. The wood was set alight instantly.

"It's been rather boring really. Sure flying's fun but there is nothing to do while you are sitting on a dragon's back," Dale said, "It would be better if I had my camera."

"Camera?" said Barrack with a little confusion.

He walked over to Garathon again and reached into the saddlebag, bringing out a small device. It took Dale a moment to realise what it was. He let out a gasp of surprise.

"You have it?" he said, reaching out and taking it from Barrack, expecting it for any damage that may have been caused. Besides a few scratches and a dirtied screen it was in good order.

"Yes, we took it off you while you were asleep. I though I would keep it as a prize, but if you want it you're welcome to it."

Dale nodded with a smile, flicking on the screen. He flicked over a few photos. He stopped as he looked at the picture he had taken of Garathon. It was a little blurry, not extremely high quality, but it was good enough. He continued to flick through his photos, deleting a few of the worse ones. He froze again as he came across another picture. His family. It was a few days before he had been captured. They had been gathering for a family party and Dale thought it appropriate to snap a photo of the moment. He sighed as a tear formed. He shook it away and forced down his emotions. No, not yet. Not now.

He turned the camera off and put it around his neck, careful to keep it away from the broken shoulder. Both Garathon and Barrack were watching him with interest. Dale moved uncomfortably, and decided to change the subject.

"What's that clacking sound that Garathon makes when he breathes fire?" he asked.

Barrack frowned a little, as if not understanding the sentence.

"I don't understand the english word 'clacking'."

"You know, the sound that he makes just before he breaths fire. It's like two rocks clashing together," Dale said.

Understanding flashed in Barrack's eyes, "Oh. You mean his fire bones. When he breathes fire they strike each other to create a spark and light the gas he breathes."

"That's cool," Dale said, looking towards the dragon, "Though I thought bones couldn't create a spark."

"Dragon bones can. They are very useful fire starters. We use them as your equivalent to flint and steel. There are quite a few amazing things about these creatures," he smiled at Garathon, "Such as mind speech, the fire breathing, hollow bones, circulation of air. Its very interesting stuff, which you will learn more about when we get to our destination."

Dale smiled, a little excited. He had always loved complicated designs and structures and working out how things worked. His own camera was custom designed, and he had added many parts himself. Probably the reason it hadn't broken during his tripping and falling while running away from Garathon.

"Where is our destination by the way?" asked Dale, he had wanted to ask that question for a while.

Barrack grinned, "You'll see. I often like to surprise people with the destination. Let's just say that it's... otherworldly."

A frown found its way to Dale's face. He knew they were in Africa, and the continent seemed like a reasonably good place to hide a dragon army. There were so many undiscovered secrets to it. But there was something in the way that Barrack had said his explanation that seemed to suggest it wasn't in Africa.

The rider reached in and took something else out of the saddlebag. A sword, about a metre long. Strange patterns danced through the blade, catching the fading light and sending streaks of light through the campsite. It had a strange leather hilt with a straight cross-guard, depicting a large dragon in the middle. It reminded Dale of Garathon. Barrack took a couple of swings, testing the balance and capability of the weapon.

"This seems about your size," he said, handing the sword hilt first to Dale.

Dale took it hesitantly with his left hand. His eyes glazed over the metal sword and the symbol in the sword's hit. A curled up dragon with large wings, like Garathon. The sword had weight to it, but it wasn't difficult to hold upright. Well balanced was the right word, though it felt awkward to be holding it in his left hand.

"What do you think?" asked Barrack with a proud smile.

"It's... cool I guess," he said, "But I am right handed and my right arms broken. And I don't know what use I could have for it. I mean. I'm not going to be killing anybody."

Barrack raised an eyebrow, "Yes you will. I've already told you, you will be joining our army. If you expect to join an army and not kill you must either be stupid or not understand exactly what you do as a soldier."

Dale looked up at him, "But, I can't kill anyone."

"Why not?"

"Its wrong."

Barrack laughed, "Is it now? Well tell that to our enemies, make them stop killing and we will stop killing. Let me tell you something kid, when you find yourself face to face with an enemy, you will do whatever you can to stay alive. Anything. And if you hesitate to kill him remember that he won't hesitate to kill you. He doesn't care if it's 'wrong'. He only cares about surviving the hell of war and if he doesn't he's going to take as many of you with him as he can. You see kid. What you believe is right and wrong won't matter to him, or anyone else for that matter, and if you hold onto to that you will be nothing but a corpse."

Dale dropped the sword. It hit the ground with a clang. He stepped back, staring at Barrack in horror. He felt his throat seize up as tears threatened to spill from his eyes. He took a shuddering breath and bent down, picking up a sword.

"I... I can't kill people," he said with a small sob, "I... I can't do that. To take away another's life. That isn't my calling, not mine at all. I'm not the one who should be deciding whether someone lives or dies. I'm only twelve."

Barrack walked up to him and put his hand on his shoulder. He sighed, looking Dale straight in the eye.

"I'm sorry kid, but what I said is true," he said, "You won't be killing anyone straight away. We will train you up in swordsmanship and gun handling. When you become sixteen is when you officially join, and that's four years away. So you will have four years to find out what you want to do."

Barrack looked up into the night sky, "You'll pull through, I know that. You're strong, for a kid, and you have a strong belief and faith. Keep it, and you will pull through, but don't be afraid to do what you have to do."

Dale nodded, staring down at the ground. He put the sword's tip into the ground and took a gasping sigh. He could do this. He wouldn't cry. Looking back up at Barrack he nodded his head at him. Barrack smiled.

"Now let's get something to eat!" he said.

A smile played at Dale's lips. He followed Barrack over to the campfire and sat down. He placed the sword down on the sand beside him and picked up his camera with his one good hand. He put it up to his eye and looked through the lens at Barrack and Garathon, and snapped the picture. He smiled as he drew it back to see the photo.

It was the perfect picture. Fire illuminating the two figures. The last of the sun disappearing into the distance. Garathon was looking at him with his good eye and Barrack had a smile on his face. Dale sighed, he had begun to like his two kidnappers, as much as he hated the situation he was in. He looked into the sky, taking a deep breath.

"God," he whispered to the heavens, "Help me pull through this."

Turning back to the campfire he watched as Barrack began to cook up a wonderful smelling chicken stew. Dale's stomach growled and he waited. As Barrack set out the stew they talked more.

The night wore on and eventually they curled up to sleep. Dale's thin blanket managed to keep out the cold easily, much to his relief. His sword rested beside him, its dangerous beauty reflecting the starlight. Dale found himself staring at it, wondering. Would he be able to kill when the time came? He knew it must; yet the thought of it sickened him. Forcing the thought out of his mind he closed his eyes. Even then it took a while for him to get to sleep.

* * *

The next day he awoke early. He got up, stretching he legs and yawning. The sun was slowly rising from the horizon, casting a golden glow over the cove. The sand shone and fish were leaping out from the water of the red sea. Small waves lapped at the beach and a curious seagull was hopping over the sand towards the campsite.

Garathon and Barrack were still asleep, the dragon's lumbering snores rocking the campsite. Barrack looked to be under his wing, sprawled out and sleeping soundly.

Dale stared in their direction. The sword lay to his right. It would be so easy to... Dale shook his head. No, not now. He wouldn't kill them in their sleep. They had been nothing but kind to him since the kidnapping. It would be hard hearted of him to kill them now.

He looked into the forest that surrounded the cove. That he could do. He got to his feet, picking up the sword in his left hand. He stared at the forest. It was beckoning to him. The green leaves waved him forward, the narrow trunks calling him onwards, and he took a couple of steps towards it, before turning back with a sigh.

The forest wasn't a place for him now. He was injured and had no survival skills whatsoever. His best bet of living was staying with his captives. Grumbling in annoyance he looked at Garathon and Barrack. Besides, they would probably catch up to him anyway.

He sat down near the smoked out fire and, using the sword, sifted through the ashes. Garathon was the first to wake. His good eye stared at Dale in its intimidating way. Dale let loose a small smile at the dragon, before turning his gaze back to the fire.

Barrack woke soon after. He muttered a 'good morning' to Dale and they had a rather dismal breakfast. They were both silent. Dale's mind wandered back to that morning. A chance he had lost, though he doubted he would have survived. Maybe if he wasn't as injured, or clueless of the forests of Africa. He picked up his sword and stood up.

"Are we ready to go?" he asked.

"You seem eager," said Barrack with a small smile.

"I'm just tired of waiting. I want this all to be done and over with," sighed Dale.

The rider nodded, "Well, today should be our last day in the air. My guess is we arrive at our destination around midday."

'Midday?' Dale thought, 'Well, I guess I won't be waiting much longer.'

The two of them got onto Garathon's back. Dale slid the sword into the saddlebag to keep it out of the way. Garathon took a couple of flaps with his wings and they were once again in the air. Dale looked back at the cove with a sad smile. It was a beautiful place; one that he hoped he could come back to once he had got his freedom back. If he could get it back.

The forest soon dissipated into desert. It stretched for miles out in either direction and Dale felt the heat of the sun beating against his back, causing his burns, which had almost healed, to throb. He shifted in his seat, trying to relieve the pain.

After a couple of hours of flying a small mountain range began to appear in the horizon. The sun was high above them and the only relief from the heat was the strong breeze that came with being up high. Garathon tilted his wings and began to descend towards the mountains.

There was a small amount of shrubbery surrounding the mountain that waved in the light breeze. A group of mountain goats bounded away from the dragon as he flew into the range through a valley. Dale spotted a group of shepherds herding a group of goats into a stall. A few of them looked up at the dragon as he flew.

"They've seen us!" said Dale, pointing to the shepherds.

"I know, don't worry about them," was the reply.

Garathon folded his wings and dropped. Dale gasped and gripped his back spike hard. Before they hit the ground Garathon opened his wings again, stopping them in the air. He drove his wings hard and they entered into a cave that was hidden beneath a large row of shrubbery.

Darkness surrounded them like a cloak, blocking any light that attempted to break through. The constant rhythmic bashing of Garathon's wings was the only sound that could be heard. It was cold as well, compared to the outside, and the coldness seeped into the two humans atop the dragon's back. Dale shivered, wrapping his arms around himself in an attempt to keep his remaining warmth as long as possible. One extreme to another.

A golden light suddenly pieced the darkness ahead of them. Garathon turned a rather sharp corner towards it and Barrack let loose a small sigh of relief. Dale could see the cave walls now. They were unnaturally rounded, like they were made purposefully and there seemed to be a strange gleam to them that came from the enormous amount of water droplets trickling down the walls. The golden light made it seem as if they were glowing.

As they flew further the golden light grew stronger. Dale was beginning to wonder whether they would suddenly fly into it, before the tunnel came to a sudden end. They shot into a cavern, filled with golden light.

The cavern was gigantic, and could have easily held a large city. Lighting it up were hundreds of golden globes spread throughout. Stalagmites and stalactites stretched from the cave floor and rooftop. The air in the cave was an earthy texture that was slightly hard to breath and it was damp, not quite enough to soak through clothes but enough to make the two humans uncomfortable. The size of the cavern gave it a strangely empty feeling. There was also an eerie sound resonating through the cave, coming and going in waves.

An even brighter light became visible the further they went. Dale let out a gasp as the ground beneath them flattened out, revealing a strange structure that was embedded into the rock floor. It was a circular shape, and was about as high as a three-story building and twice as wide as Garathon with his wings spread out. The circle housed the golden light he had seen. It looked like some sought of portal from a science-fiction movie. Golden ripples spread out from the middle like water, encompassing the whole area of the circle. Dale couldn't draw his eyes away.

"Impressive isn't it," said Barrack with a grin, "Takes you're breath away whenever you see it."

Dale could only nod. Garathon landed on a metallic platform that stretched from the portal with a loud bang. It rung out, breaking the strange silence that ruled the cave.

A movement caught his eye. He turned quickly and his heart jumped. Another dragon, or what he assumed was a dragon, was crawling across the floor towards them, also with a rider on its back. This dragon was very different from Garathon. For one it was far smaller, nearly half the size. It only had two legs as well, and no arms, using its wings as its forelegs instead. The fleshy horns that Garathon had had been replaced by a frill that spread like a crown around the dragon's head and instead of a ridge running down its back it had small sharp spikes that ended at the tip of its tail.

"Ho Barrack!" the rider said with a smile.

"Ho Gilmore," replied Barrack with a grin.

The rider started speaking rapidly in a different language. Dale blinked, not understanding a word. Barrack replied just as eagerly with a laugh. He pattered Garathon's head, causing the dragon to growl slightly. The two riders continued to chatter, and Dale slunk slightly back, feeling uncomfortable, especially with the way the other dragon looked at him.

"And who's this?" said who Dale supposed was Gilmore, switching to English.

"Dale," said Barrack, "Our newest recruit."

Dale bowed his head slightly to the rider, "Good to meet you sir."

"And he has manners to!" said Gilmore, "Even if he is a little scrawny. What happened to your arm boy?"

Dale hesitated, "I fell sir."

"Garathon dropped him when the kid stabbed him in the eye with a broken stick," explained Barrack with a grin, "I think he'll do well."

"I'm surprised Garathon hasn't eaten him yet," said Gilmore with a laugh, "Kestrix here would eat the boy in an instant if he did that to him."

Dale glanced down towards the dragon with a gulp. It seemed to almost grin at him.

"Only because Wyverns are too emotional," argued Barrack, "Tifirour dragons can control themselves. They a calm and collected."

"You mean tame. Only a real man can handle a wyvern," laughed Gilmore.

Garathon snorted at them. Dale heard the familiar 'clack' off Garathon's throat, and the dragon shot a bolt of fire past Gilmore and his wyvern. Kestrix growled and danced backwards slightly.

"Okay, okay Garathon, you made your point," said Gilmore, putting up his hands in surrender.

The large dragon nodded his head in satisfaction. Kestrix growled slightly in annoyance, slapping his tail against the metal landing pad. Gilmore sighed, and began to talk to Barrack again in the strange language. They conversed for a small while, before Garathon began to move forward.

"Okay kid, get ready for a ride. Travelling through a worm hole can often be a strange experience, especially for first timers," said Barrack, "If you do throw up try to avoid me and Garathon. I don't want to come out on the other side covered in puke."

With that happy note Garathon took a couple of flaps with his wings, rising to the air once more. He pushed himself forward towards the yellow, water like portal. Dale gripped the dragon's ridge a little harder... and they passed through.