Dragon Diaries - G is for Glenda - A to Z Challenge 2017 #AtoZChallenge

elcome to my contribution to the Blogging from A to Z Challenge 2017:

Dragon Diaries

So, what does that mean? Well, each day, I'm going to tell you about a dragon - a dragon inspired by a name that I generated randomly using a name generator (I haven't looked up the derivation of any of these names, I have just run with how they make me feel, their sound on the tongue).

I'll tell you all about my Dragon of the Day, and share some flash fic about their lives. Any genre, any character, any look - prepare to be surprised and (I hope) entertained by my dragonly inspirations :).

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 is for Glenda

Glenda has lived in Madame Gareaux’s bakery since she was a hatchling. Her egg had been found unattended just outside the town and she had been incubated in the back of the large bread ovens in lieu of her mother’s own fire. Her first scents of life had been of freshly baked pastry and caramelised crusts and she had been addicted to baking ever since.

From helping to light the fire in the dark mornings to controlling her own breath to expertly scorch a meringue, Glenda had perfected her unique skills to the make Gareaux’s bakery famous across the land. Everyone said there was something special about the taste of dragon-fired bread, and Glenda knew that everyone was right. There was not a baker in the land who could touch her and Madame’s teamwork.

By day, Glenda toasted macarons and burnished caramels, and, of course, sampled for quality control as she went along. By night, she squeezed through one of the doorways into the bread oven, which seemed to be shrinking as the years went by, or maybe that was down to the quality control - still, she slept warm and safe in the oven until her sweet and tasty day began all over again.

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Puff

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Glenda blew softly over the tray of lemon tarts, watching carefully as the powdered sugar began to turn golden and bubble. She knew just when to stop and she nodded happily to herself as the sweet smell of warmed sugar and crisp lemon assailed her nostrils.

“Glenda, darling, are you finished back there?” Madame’s lilt drew Glenda’s attention to the shop out the front, and she glanced over her wing at the doorway.

“Yes, Madame,” she called back, “the tarts will be right with you.”

“Francois can pick up the tarts, I need you out here, please.”

That did make Glenda pay attention, because she was back of house, there wasn’t much room for a dragon, even of her diminutive stature, behind the counter. She left behind her creations and headed into the shop. It was not dark in the bakehouse, but the sun was streaming in through the bakery windows, so Glenda squinted into the light, at first only making out quite a few dark shapes in front of her. It was therefore quite a surprise when she heard, “Happy Birthday to you…”

Glenda came to a halt in the back doorway to the shop, blinking away the brightness and her fire had nothing on the deep warmth that flooded through her as she realised the shadows were all her friends and customers packed onto Madame’s spotless tiles. They smiled and sang loudly in more or less unison as Madame rolled forward a large cake covered in chocolate (Glenda’s favourite) and topped with a hoard of unlit candles. Glenda bounced on her toes and blew a little smoke from her nose as she gasped in her joy.

The song finished with a rousing disharmony and a cheer and then Madame hugged Glenda tightly.

“Happy Birthday, my darling,” Madame told her and then, standing back and indicating the cake, continued, “for you to light.”

“Oh thank you, thank you everybody,” Glenda gushed and looked round at all her friends before she concentrated on the candles.

Taking a deep, but gentle breath, she did what she was good at, she breathed out over the delicate wax tapers and, in a beautiful golden wave, they all lit in time to her companions’ applause.

~

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