The Plasma Master

by Brian Rushton

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  A gentle breeze blew across the tops of the trees as Valkron flew through the evening Palandoran sky. The clouds on the horizon glowed a brilliant pink as they reflected the light of the setting sun. Below, Valkron’s sharp ears picked up the splattering of stream water as it tumbled over the rocks on its way down the mountain slope to the river.

  There was another sound, as well. Voices. Valkron knew the voices well; he had known X and Jenara for many years now. He circled above them and looked down on the couple as they walked through the woods, hand in hand, talking and laughing. It was good to have them home again. It pleased Valkron that they were together. They had always been happiest when they were together, and something about the way they walked and spoke suggested that they would be together for a very, very long time. Perhaps forever. Valkron let out a mighty roar and rose into the darkening sky.