The professor slapped his alarm clock off the nightstand, knocking it onto the carpet where it finally stopped its loud ringing. He grumbled into his pillow for a moment before forcing himself upright. The cold air from his fan made him immediately regret leaving the warmth of his blankets. he has never been able to sleep in pure silence.

  Barely awake, he takes his phone from the charger, squinting against the sudden brightness because of the black-out curtains. Checking his emails, he saw the usual students requesting an extension on the final project that is due today. Ignoring the emails, and a couple of missed texts from other professors, and, embarrassingly, another update from Clash of Clans.

  Getting up felt harder each day from the back pain he suffered from a rough fall while rock climbing and also stiffened by hours spent hunched over his fossil crates and research equipment. Whenever he stood up straight, it sounded like stepping on a sheet of bubble-wrap. Popping and clicking of stiff joints that hurt but feels good at the same time when he stretched. He slowly made his way to the bathroom while cracking his knuckles and limping on every step, like his body was warming up.

  His reflection was not doing him any favors today. Hair sticking up, shadowed eyes, and pale skin that looked like it hadn't seen sun in months. After splashing some water on his face and doing a few other routine bathroom chores. He tossed on a faded gray tank top beneath his dark red shirt, buttoning it unevenly at first. Comfortable black slacks and his scuffed shoes completed the outfit. He wet his hair and used a bit of the, almost empty, scented hair paste to add a little style. After brushing his beard that's bristles were wet with cedar scented beard oil, he took one last look in the mirror and left the bathroom.

  Pausing at his bedroom door, he instinctively reached up to touch the silver chain around his neck, a gift from his mother that he has had for over a decade that still is in pristine conditions. Walking down the hall into the kitchen, he glanced at his dark and empty living room. He never has anyone over, so he just uses the living room as a storage space.

  He grabbed a scalding cup of coffee from the coffee machine, that he pre-sets before going to bed every night. Savoring the first sip, before moving on to the study. The rich smell of aged paper and leather bindings always welcomed him when he opens the study door in the morning. The room was comfortably messy, crammed with bookshelves overflowing with history books, artifacts, and souvenirs gathered from his explorations. The framed degrees on the wall of archaeology, paleontology, and earth sciences felt more like proud relatives than personal accomplishments.

  Today was the last lecture of the semester. He'd been looking forward to the break for weeks, though he already knew he'd spend most of it in his coveted underground lab, elbows-deep in ancient mysteries that still kept him awake at night.

  With a sigh, he picked up his worn leather briefcase and stepped into the chilly morning, oblivious to the fact that today would be anything but ordinary.

  The lecture was the usual blur of familiar faces, typical questions, and polite nods. By evening, he was back in his study, collapsing gratefully into his favorite chair. He was playing his favorite game of stay awake while trying to research when he hears a loud crash. Like the entire room was being destroyed. He instinctively covered his head to shield himself and closed his eyes.

  Nothing touched him but a bit of dust and there was nothing but silence. He slowly raised his head from the desk and opened his eyes expecting a disaster, only to find something entirely unexpected. Sitting calmly in the middle of scattered books and toppled artifacts was a small creature staring at him and when his eyes met the creature's gaze.

  A gentle voice spoke clearly inside his head:

  "Hi."

  His jaw dropped slightly. He didn’t move, barely breathed, trying to convince himself he wasn’t awake. The professor became faint and crashed to the wooden floor.

  When he awoke, it was quiet. Too quiet. He raised his head and the creature from before was not there, but the in its place was ruined books and papers from a destroyed bookshelf. Debris littered the floor from the hole in the ceiling. From the hole he could see the bright moon shining down on him. He rubbed his head, sitting up slowly. "That was… real?" he muttered. He stood on unsteady legs and made his way to the kitchen, only to stop dead in his tracks.

  On the table was a steaming cup of coffee, one he definitely didn’t make. And in the center of the table, sitting like a loafing housecat, was the creature.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  It stared at him patiently. Then came the voice again, calm and clear inside his mind.

  "Sit down please, we need to have a chat."

  The creature smiled at the Professor and waited. The professor blinked at the creature, then at the coffee. He was examining the creature while walking slowly to the table. The creature was no larger than a cat, with smooth pink skin that glistened in the light of the dim chandelier above the table. The creature, with four legs and a curiously long tail. A light shimmering glow emanated from the majestic being on the table. The professor sat in the only seat at the table.

  "I know this is a lot to process, so I am going to keep your stress as low as possible," the voice said. "I know you have a lot of questions so I am going to start by confirming what you are seeing is real, I am a dragon and this is not a dream. Dragons are real and all of the stories you have in your library about dragons are... bullshit."

  The professor stared at the creature, unsure whether to laugh or cry.

  "How many of you are there?"

  "There are many of us out there, but there is only one like me. If you met any of my other kin, you would want to stay away because you could die by simply being in their presence. Oh... and I am the only one that can speak to you because I have certain... unique abilities. If I were to use my voice... the vibration would definitely kill you. So... I'll try to keep my mouth closed."

  The professor nearly cried at the idea of dying from being close to a dragon.

  "You don’t need my help, do you?"

  "No," the voice replied calmly. "I just want someone who will understand the events that are about to unfold and why."

  The professor’s brows furrowed.

  "Events that are about to unfold?"

  "Yes," the dragon said in a strangely excited tone. "My kin are about to awaken."

  The professor leaned forward slightly, his voice almost a whisper.

  "What do you mean by awaken?"

  The dragon replied,

  "There are many of my kin on your world that were here before you. They have been in their slumber for thousands of years and they are well rested. For us dragons, sleep is our way to grow. During our hibernation, we monitor the world's balance. When the balance is shifted, it is time for certain dragons to emerge to restore that balance. For me, I sleep in the clouds. When I sense that one of my kin are about to awaken, I choose one of the most knowledgeable creatures that are secluded to protect and witness the awakening. This so happens to be you."

  The Professor does not understand that instead of panic or fear, he feels an odd sense of calm. Normally this would be a rather stressful situation, but he feels strangely relaxed.

  "I know I am freaking out, but why do I feel... like its just a normal day?"

  The dragon answers with a slight smile.

  "Because I’m keeping your stress and heart rate at a normal rate. If you were left to experience this without my help, you would have likely have a heart attack or collapse from shock."

  The professor raised an eyebrow.

  "So you’re... calming me, chemically? Neurologically?"

  "Telepathically," the dragon replied simply. "its more efficient."

  The professor shook his head in disbelief.

  "Okay… then let me ask you something. Who are you? Really?"

  "My name is in a dialect that cannot be spoken by humans, so you can just call me Mind."

  The professor retorted,

  "Mind? So you are communicating telepathically, you obviously can manipulate the environment, I am guessing, telekinetically. You have the ability of influence others or at least to an extent. Since you are the only one who has shown yourself to me, would that make you the weakest dragon?"

  A piercing scream rang through the professor’s ears. His entire body locked up in pain, and a mind-numbing pressure crashed over him like a wave. It was the worst pain he had ever felt. During the immense pain... darkness.

  He awoke standing barefoot in the heart of a jungle he couldn’t identify. Despite having explored nearly every major rain-forest on Earth, nothing about this place was familiar. The trees were impossibly tall, the plants alien in form, and the air was heavy with something primal.

  Ahead of him stood a colossal tree, wider than the largest skyscraper and reaching higher than the clouds. Suddenly, thick vines shot out and wrapped around his wrists and ankles, lifting him from the ground. He was hoisted high above the canopy to the crown of the mighty tree.

  At the top, nestled in a massive hollow... something began moving in the middle of the large platform atop the giant tree. A disgusting, dripping shell began to crack open as a dark green acidic liquid poured from its seams. The liquid ate through the wood, but the flesh of the wood instantly regrew to contain the damage.

  A massive dragon, dark green, and glistening with a viscous fluid emerged from its melting cocoon, and turned toward him.

  The professor, hanging from vines that tightened every time he moved, was desperate to escape, even if it meant to dying from the fall. The dragon crawled forward, its massive face inches from his. He could smell the burning in his lungs from the toxic fumes. Its slitted eyes locked onto his and with a blink everything went black.