Sang's Dragon

Chapter Five

Sang

As I walked through the village on my way to Henry's cottage, people gazed at me with startled eyes. I could only imagine how I must've looked after my battle with the wraith. Tangled hair, torn clothes, blood and sweat dripping down my face—it must've been a scary sight. In all likelihood, I should've went straight home to wash up, but I couldn't wait to tell Henry and Janice the news. Not only that, but they would also be able to help clean my wounds.

"Excuse me! Miss!" A sharp voice shouted from behind me.

Without slowing down, I peeked over my shoulder to determine whether or not I was the one being called after. Two males that looked to be a year or two older than myself were jogging to catch up with me. One of them had soft brown hair, cut short and brushed away from his face. As he approached, I noticed the steel grey eyes peeking out from behind a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. Everything about him, from his posture to his stoic facial expression, gave off an air of authority.

The other one had curly, sandy blonde hair that reached the middle of his ears. His trimmed frame was relaxed and approachable, a complete opposite to his friend's intimidating bearing. Even his green, glittering eyes were gentle and warm. I had never had an encounter with either of these strangers, so I discretely checked their wrists and noticed they also had dragon marks. How many are there?

They came to a stop next to me, and I reluctantly stood in place. While the authoritative one stayed impassive, the one with blonde hair looked at my injuries, concerned. "Are you alright? I'm a doctor. I can take a look at those, if you'd allow me to."

"Oh, no. I'd hate to be a bother. I was just headed home to get them cleaned up." I gave him a thankful smile for his efforts, fighting the urge to cover my wounds.

He raised an unimpressed eyebrow at me and sent me a flirty grin. "It would be no bother, I am a doctor after all. It's my job. Besides, with that nasty cut on your forehead, it would be best to check for a concussion and determine whether or not it will need stitches."

"He is right..." The other rider trailed off expectantly, asking for my name without actually asking. With his sharp, searching eyes, I almost felt like spilling out all my deepest, darkest secrets to him. I quickly shook the feeling off and offered, "Sang."

His eyes sharpened before he clearing his throat. "Well, Sang, my name is Owen Blackbourne and this is my friend Sean Green. We'd feel a lot better if you would let us help treat you. We wouldn't feel right allowing you to travel in this condition."

"Aw, Owen," Sean whined in a childlike voice. "Just friend? I thought we were best friends. You'd think after five years of being in your insufferable presence, I would have earned the title by now."

Owen sent him an irritated glance. "We can discuss those details later, Sean. I believe you have a patient to care for."

"Oh, right!" Sean put a baffled expression on his face. I was starting to believe he was daft, or perhaps just easily distracted, but the discreet wink he sent me showed he was maybe only a fan for dramatics. "What do you say, Sang? Will you allow me to check out those cuts?"