The sun was already setting by the time Theo left Sam's house. The chill of an early spring night bit through his hoodie, forcing him to hurry even though he wasn't exactly looking forward to going home.

Sam lived in an older, slightly more run-down part of town where the houses were packed close together, their windows aglow and compact front gardens blooming with the year's first flowers. So unlike the big, but always empty, house where Theo lived. He didn't like thinking about it as home, even though he'd spent his entire life there.

It hadn't been home for five years, ever since the door had slammed shut in his face and his brother had walked away.

It was no use telling himself that it wasn't his fault, that his brother had been angry at their father and not him. The memory of Victor's last words still seared through his veins like poison. "I'm done being your trained monkey. Don't come looking for me."

Theo shuddered, gripping his backpack straps tight. What the hell was wrong with him? He'd told himself not to think about Victor today, never mind that it marked exactly five years since that door had slammed shut. That was why he'd gone to hang out with Sam, hoping it'd keep his mind off unnecessary things.

Instead, he'd fallen asleep and had another one of his weird dreams and gotten nothing accomplished. Now it was getting dark and he was heading back to a house that most likely would be empty. Which might be a relief; Theo didn't want to have to deal with his dad on this day of all days, even if, like Theo, he resolutely went on acting as if nothing was any different. But maybe that was what made it so painful.

It was fine. He'd already accepted Victor was never coming back. He'd had five years to do so. No use wallowing in self-pity. Think on the bright side: If Dad wasn't there, then he'd get to practice guitar by himself, maybe do a little recording session if he was feeling especially brave.

Ha, who am I kidding? Almost half a year since Theo had resolved to live out his dreams of becoming an emo singer and he was still too scared to let anyone hear him. He wondered if he'd changed at all, or if he was still that shy little boy who always hid behind his brother....

A cool breeze stirred his fringe, rustled the leaves of the trees. Realizing he'd gotten lost in thought, Theo glanced around to get his bearings. The sun had almost completely disappeared, leaving only a touch of red on the horizon. Street lights glowed like golden orbs in the bluish evening. In the distance, a dog barked, an engine idled.

Perfectly ordinary. Yet the disquiet was back, and stronger than before, thrumming in his chest like a note played sour. He shook his head to clear it and soldiered onward. Yeah, some sleep wouldn't hurt.

The wind was picking up; Theo began to regret not wearing a scarf or hat. The best he could do was pull his hood up, hunch his shoulders, and walk faster.

So it startled him when warmth bloomed in his chest, as if he'd swallowed a hot drink. Was he hallucinating? No, the warmth was growing stronger, spreading in slow, tingling waves through his veins all the way to the tips of his extremities. As it did, Theo realized he had felt this way before.

In his dream. When he'd been flying toward the floating city. No. It can't be. His dreams were one thing, a strange, vivid world that he felt at once connected to and detached from. It had nothing to do with his boring, everyday, average reality.

Theo hurried onward, his breaths rasping in his throat. The warmth didn't go away. It was starting to become unpleasant, pulsing an erratic rhythm just slightly out of sync with his heartbeat.

A scarlet glow in the near distance caught his attention. It seemed to come from the park across the street, but that didn't make sense; there were no shops or buildings of any sort inside the park. Yet beyond the thicket of hedges, a patch of the ground was shining such a brilliant red it seemed to drain away all the color around it.

A few cars whizzed by; a businessman ambled down the sidewalk. None of them so much as glanced at the park. Maybe it was some kind of weird ad campaign? But you'd think people would at least be a little curious, then. And though he was too far away to tell for sure, Theo thought that the glow appeared roughly circular in shape.

The warmth in his chest surged hotter than ever. Before he could think, he found himself crossing the street.

No - this wasn't the right way home -

His feet didn't stop moving. They carried him past the park gate, onto the crushed stone path, toward the ever-brightening glow. Off the path, onto the lawn, grass crunching beneath his shoes. Closer. 

Until he stood right in front of it. The harsh light made his eyes water, but he blinked hard until his vision adjusted. A circle, maybe eight feet across. And inside it glowed patterns and symbols that struck a resounding chord in his heart.

His hand crept toward his backpack, bumping the edge of his sketchbook. Sweat poured down his temples despite the chilly night, yet his teeth wouldn't stop chattering.

Dimly, he noticed the lines were pulsing in rhythm to the heat in his chest. Faster and faster. He felt that he might explode.

Run away, a voice screamed in the back of his head. It's not too late. You can still run away. If he came any closer, or god forbid, tried to touch it, he didn't know what would happen. Better safe than sorry. Maybe this was just another dream.

But his dream world had never collided with his everyday world like this.

He had to leave. He had to go home. Go home and - what? Sit alone in his room, strum a few chords on the guitar while pretending he was one step closer to performing in front of an audience, and try not to think about Victor? That was his life, and he didn't resent it. It was just the way things were.

Knees trembling, Theo stepped forward. One step. Two. The heat surged, the light flared. As it burned brighter, a painful thrumming filled his chest.

He reached the edge of the circle. Now or never.

Taking a deep breath, he planted his foot inside.

The warmth rushed from his chest down into his feet and exploded outward. Scarlet light burst like flames from the diagram, swallowing his vision completely.

He yelped in alarm, but as the light swirled and stormed it softened into a gentler pink. A familiar color, like the sky in his dreams. Which might've calmed him a little if he had the slightest damn clue what was happening.

A crackle filled his head, then a boom shuddered through his bones. He stumbled forward, falling to his knees onto hard, cracked earth. Not grass. He gasped for breath, head spinning. Light still poured upon him, but it was hot and harsh and made him sweat - the rays of a high noon sun.

He looked up and all the breath fled his lungs.

A massive silhouette against the blazing blue sky. Leathery wings, a sinuous body.

A dragon.

And it was diving straight toward him.