by JD Cole
Tom scratched the back of his head. “Well, I don’t know anything about the family magic. We raise livestock, I’m tending the land and business my grandfather started. Kelli was always a handful—”
“Not even!” the Queen interjected, laughing.
“Yes, even!” Tom countered. “She’s a hard worker, and she’s honest. But she’s always been impulsive, and she’s known to have a bit of a temper.”
Kelli blushed, looking sideways as everyone glanced at her. Her temper had already been a topic of heavy conversation with her sprite relatives. She didn’t need the reminder.
“But I can honestly say a father couldn’t wish for a better daughter,” Tom finished.
“I will happily confirm that!” Vanessa agreed. “She’s been the joy of our life.”
“Aw, stop you guys!” Kelli blushed even harder. Suddenly remembering something, she looked at Kim and Erica. “Hey, you guys, I’m really sorry for dragging you out here. I had a picture in my head of what today was supposed to be like, when I finally saw my parents again, and then with Derek I got all stressed out, I couldn’t think clearly or…”
“It’s okay, Kel,” Erica replied. “Or, Highness? How, uh, how am I supposed to call you now?”
“Just ‘Kelli’,” the Queen smiled. “I’m not your queen, just your brother’s wi… uh, girlfriend.”
Erica caught the slip, and Kelli saw the twinkle her eyes. Bennett had already told Erica. But as Erica opened her mouth to say something, Kelli subtly shook her head. Confused, Erica held her tongue. Kelli’s parents also knew of her secret marriage, but the Queen needed to know why the sprites seemed so shifty about her romance with Bennett before announcing to them that he was now her husband. Maybe the marriage now meant he was the King and had authority over her and her magic? Whatever it was, she wanted to find out.
“And congratulations!” Kelli continued. “I just remembered mom said you’re expecting?” An annoying insect was buzzing her ear, and she waved it away.
“Yup,” Erica rubbed her belly. “It finally happened. In the middle of a war, of course, but hey, I’m gonna be a mommy!”
“And I’m gonna be an aunty!” Kelli exclaimed. “Do you know what it is yet?”
“It’s a boy,” Erica smiled.
“Oh, man, a Kunali’i boy, you are gonna have your hands full!” she laughed, with Erica and Kim joining in. Nobody knew the Kunali’i brothers better than these three women, and they were indeed a handful.
“Speaking of, where’s Devon?” Kelli asked.
“We were working on a plan to rescue his brother,” Erica said.
“Devon is looking for help from Krin Ahgl. He went back to the castle to find him,” Kim added.
“Wait, rescue who? Christian?”
“Yeah,” Erica confirmed. “He’s in the middle of the war. He’s lost and confused, we need to get him out of there.”
“What war?” Kelli hadn’t been home for over a month to know what was going on in the human world. Erica and the others briefly recapped the escalation of violence in Eastern Europe following the attack in Boston.
“Why didn’t you guys tell me about this?” Kelli asked her parents. “Why didn’t you tell me about Christian needing help?”
Tom spread his arms. “Sweetheart, you’ve kind of got your hands full here, don’t you think? I wasn’t going to stress you out with things you have no control over when you’re already stuck in a new world learning how to become a queen to these faeries!”
“No!” Kelli frowned. “Christian’s family! You should have told me! I could have, I dunno, I could help... somehow!” She looked to Brevha and Sorvir, but their looks told her otherwise. A mosquito bit Kelli’s neck, and she slapped it.
“It’s alright, Kel,” Erica said. “Christian is a Dragon, too, just like his brothers. But he doesn’t know what he is, or how he can do all the things he can do with magic.”
Kim nodded. “That’s where he needs help, because he thinks he’s going insane. That and all the violence he’s seeing around himself. Anyway, that’s what Devon’s up to. He said his uncle could help him figure out a way to quietly bring Christian home without exposing their dragon-ness to everybody with a camera.”
“And how are you doing, Kim?” Kelli hadn’t gotten to know Kim very well, but Devon had fallen for her hard, so she was also part of the family, as well.
“Me? I’m peachy,” the red-head replied. “Missing the internet and my Dragon, but I can’t complain. Hey, any chance we could get some snacks? We didn’t get any food at your parents’ house.”
Kelli laughed. Kim was a nice girl, but rough around the social edges. There were no servants around, so Kelli motioned to one of the guards standing at the doorway. “Would we be able to get a bowl of fusava, please?”
“Certainly, my Queen.” He disappeared through the doorway.
Kelli looked at her family. “You guys have got to try this fruit.”
~ ~ ~ ~
Devon followed T’rsing into a temple-looking structure, carved entirely from stone as far as he could tell. It was large, but not impressively so. That is, until he considered that there was no such thing as bulldozers or cranes here, wherever here was. The temple had been constructed with either magic or raw physical strength. He thought of Stonehenge and Egyptian pyramids, the way people marveled at how such things were accomplished with such limited technology. Maybe Dragons had been involved with those, too, he thought.
The little mystic took his time walking to wherever they were going, and it was starting to annoy Devon; he felt like they’d taken a day just to get here. “How come you take such a small form? You walk so slow.”
T’rsing shook his head, but did not turn to answer. “What hurry is there?”
“I have stuff to do. I have to see Krin Ahgl.”
“We’re almost there,” T’rsing sighed. His gnarled little staff clicked and clacked on the stone floor with each step.
Devon growled, then bent over to pick up the mystic. He placed T’rsing on his shoulder and resumed the pace his tall frame was used to. “Just gimme directions, you menehune.” He could feel T’rsing staring down at him, annoyed, but he ignored it…
Until the mystic suddenly became a weight so heavy that Devon fell backward, and his shoulder crushed into the floor like a bus had just fallen on him.
“Have some respect,” T’rsing spat. With that, he hopped off from Devon and began his penguin-like waddle anew.
Devon sat up, rubbing at his shoulder as it healed. “Sucking guy.” With no other choice, he stood and followed the grouchy old fart. The entire building seemed to be made of stone, including the furnishings and décor, but the cracked floor healed itself just as Devon’s arm had. As they passed a wavering tapestry, Devon noted that it was not only colored the same as the stone… it was stone. Stone in the form of a cloth! “How you guys did that, making rock fabrics?”
“Don’t be stupid. We can do whatever we wish.”
“Brah, you get one stink attitude. Tell me all Dragons don’t act like you.”
“Well, you certainly do not. I hope that knowledge provides you centuries of joy.”
Devon held his tongue, and they finally reached the end of the entryway, stepping into an open-roof, coliseum-like structure. It was roughly the size of a football stadium, if slightly larger in area. Rather than benches to hold spectators encircling the arena, however, there were less than twenty seats scattered about the sloped walls, and those seats were, really, more like thrones. Each of them glowed, sort of like the moon outside did, and were adorned with varieties of gems. The cushions looked like part of the stone that formed the thrones, but like the tapestry earlier, they were altered, and appeared to be as comfortable as any cushion he’d ever sat on.
Then he looked up, and saw a golden Dragon suspended in the air, caged by a magic light. He was obviously not there of his own choice. He was much smaller than either Devon or T’rsing’s Dragon forms. Humanoid in shape, with two
arms and two legs, he had one pair of large wings on his shoulders, and another, smaller pair on his hips. His body was thin, but muscular. Instead of scales, he had tough, leathery skin. A faint white light surrounded him, and seemed to be restraining him, sapping his strength. The Dragon’s long neck turned weakly toward Devon, and his black eyes blinked, unrecognizing.
“Uncle!” Devon immediately shapeshifted into his blue Dragon form, and with a single, powerful sweep of his wings, launched up and backward to perch on the arena wall behind himself. “Uncle! What happened?”
“He is under investigation,” came a sweetly feminine voice. Devon looked up and saw a white Dragon circling overhead. His eyes widened at her awesome appearance. She lacked arms but was possessed of very long legs that trailed along behind her in flight. She seemed to use them in concert with her slim tail for maneuvering. Her torso had a humanly feminine shape, a slender hourglass under her form-fitted clothing.
In place of forelegs or arms, she had an impressive wingspan; similar to him, she had two pairs fused together, one pair significantly larger than the other. She appeared to use the smaller pair like canards or flaps. Instead of scales, she wore a beautiful coat of fine, silken hair, which thinned magnificently like a mist over her wings and tail. This milky white coat covered her head, as well, which was shaped in the manner of all Dragons. And like all Dragons, her eyes were deeply black with piercing, red irises that had no discernable pupils. She was adorned in extravagant ethergarments: a short, loose skirt that actively shifted between different shades of blue was fastened over form-hugging silk pants of black and gold, and a sleeveless red blouse that was edged with wide, gold trims. Loud, garish jewelry decorated her neck, wings, claws, and forehead. Her largest pair of horns, just above her brows, peeked out from the wispy coat of hair.
The white Dragon landed lightly on the wall opposite Devon. She stood upright while folding her wings about herself, like a cloak that PETA would protest if they saw it on a human. She rested her chin low on her long neck, staring down at Krin Ahgl while addressing Devon. “So, you are the spawn of Daknanyx?” She turned her head slightly to look at him, her eyes roaming across his body as she arched her eyebrow.
Devon finally decided that he was considered naked, even though he didn’t feel like it. Every other Dragon so far, including Bennett, wore ether clothes in their Dragon form. He withered slightly under the girl-Dragon’s invasive gaze, and quickly shapeshifted to appear like he was also clothed. A simple black robe with silver lining would have to suffice. The white Dragon laughed and shook her head, and Devon growled at her. “Why is he like that?” he pointed to Krin. “Investigated for what? And who are you?”
“This is not the one we wanted, Zaiyensa,” T’rsing said. He floated up to hover between the two of them, retaining his mystic form. “The Guardian has left Earth to seek Daknanyx.”
Guardian? They were talking about Bennett! “Somebody tell me what’s going on already!”
Zaiyensa looked at Devon. “We can still use this hatchling. His testimony would be enough.”
Devon had certainly had enough of being ignored. He looked at Krin, locking the image of him in his mind, then closed his eyes and concentrated. An ethergate began rip open around his uncle…
Zaiyensa pounced on Devon, striking him with her clawed feet, and together they fell from the wall to the grassy courtyard below. Devon looked up at her; she was half his size, but incredibly strong. “Just what do you think you are doing?” she demanded.
“Well, let’s see, I ask you guys questions, and you act like I’m not here, so I decided I might as well leave and take my Uncle with me. At least I know he would talk to me. And I need his help.”
“Help?” Zaiyensa threw her head back and laughed. “Krin Ahgl does not ‘help’ anyone. He is a conniver surpassed only by his brother. You have much to learn, hatchling.”
“Okay,” Devon yelled, gripping her ribs and rolling over ontop of her, “I am sick and tired of this hatchling crap. So what, I don’t know as much as you guys about magic or other Dragon stuff? Would it kill you guys to teach me?”
Zaiyensa stared at him, her smile predatory in more ways than one. “You have spirit, hatchling. What is your name?”
“Devon. Devon Kunali’i.”
“And what, young Devon Kunali’i, would you like for me to teach you?”
Devon returned her stare, flavoring it with irritation. “Everything.”
The look in her face softened then, becoming friendly and inviting. “Very well. But first you must do something for me.”
“What?”
“Testify at your Uncle’s trial.”
“Would you please tell me what he did wrong, first?”
“He may not have done anything wrong. But he erased shi’un memories from the Earth. That does not suggest innocence. We need testimony to learn what he erased and why.”
“Why would I know what he did? I wasn’t with him that long.”
“Testify, and we will see.”
“Either way, you’ll explain what’s going on, and teach me what I need to know?”
“Yes. Zaiyensa in our tongue means ‘the compassionate one’. We do not name ourselves randomly. The faeries worship me as a spirit of deliverance, and humans once knew me as a goddess of love. I do not lie.”
“Yeah, well, I no speak Dragon, and you guys have been dicks to me so far, so excuse me for not believing everything you say.” Devon stepped off from her, moving to the side so she could sit up.
Zaiyensa chuckled. “I am growing fond of you. You are like Daknanyx, yet unlike him at the same time. Bold and commanding, but without the obnoxious arrogance.”
T’rsing waddled toward them, appearing from seemingly nowhere. “Have you finished smothering the hatchling with kindness, then?”
“Oh, why are you always such a grouch?” Zaiyensa complained, standing.
“So where do I have to testify?” Devon asked.
“We’ll have to wait for the elders to return,” Zaiyensa answered. “They are independently considering Krin’s story now.”
“How long will that take?”
“I have no idea. They may take yet another hour, or even a decade.”
“What? I don’t have that kind of time to stand around!”
“Lesson one, hatchling,” the white Dragon said sweetly. “We have all the time in the universe. But I suppose I can teach you a few things while we wait.” She turned and looked down at the mystic, standing dozens of feet below her. “I will take him into the Singing Fields. Do summon us if the elders return in our absence?”
“I’m not gonna just leave him behind!” Devon shouted, pointing at the arena where Krin was trapped.
“I saved you,” she responded, “from sharing his fate. If you try to free Krin Ahgl again, you will be declared Illeyark ahead of him, and imprisoned for no less than an age. Roughly a thousand years, by human reckoning. I take it you have mortal friends you wish to see again, yes?” Devon simply stared at her. “Yes?” she repeated.
“Yeah.”
“So then, you will come with me. You really are too uptight, Devon Kunali’i. But you are young, so I will overlook that. I was a hatchling once, myself… though that was so long ago, several stars no longer shine where once they did.”
Devon swallowed as he considered that claim. Some of the light just now reaching Earth came from stars that had collapsed in the distant past. This Dragon had seen stars whose light had long since expired, that no astronomer even knew about? She spread her wings beside him.
“Come along, Devon,” she called, taking flight. He decided to follow her. Unlike the grumpy mystic, she at least had enough manners to use his name.
~ ~ ~ ~
Zaiyensa landed in a field blanketed by white grass and grayish-red flowers, her movements as studied and weightless as an aristocrat on a ballroom floor. Devon, on the other hand, joined her by pumping all six of his wings once on descent, kicking up dirt and loose foliage. He boun
ced a few steps as his claws tore into the ground, then trotted over to his feminine escort. As his wings folded, he shook himself in reflex, the movement beginning at the top of his neck and continuing all the way down to his tail. Zaiyensa took a deep, contemplative breath, drawing in the aroma of the flowers.
“Welcome to the Singing Fields, Devon.”
“How come this place looks so funky? The colors are all dull and weird. Are we still on Earth?”
“The faeries call this place the Netherworld. In a way, it does not really exist. Strenovia is the captured essence of what the Earth once was. In reality, the world you know is all around us.”
Zaiyensa paused for a moment to concentrate, and Devon whipped his gaze around, startled by the appearance of ghosts on the field. Buildings, roads, and landscape shimmered like a mirage around him and Zaiyensa.
“This,” Zaiyensa said, “is where we really are. I believe this city is called Cairo. The people and things here are not affected by our presence. In a basic sense, we are here, and yet we are not.” To prove her point, she stepped into traffic, allowing the misty vehicles to drive through her. Devon walked to his left, through the wall of an office building, and found himself in a busy lobby as if he had just stepped through a door. Then it all vanished as Zaiyensa cancelled her spell. There were mountains and a lake in the distance that did not exist in modern times. “These fields are what once stood on this spot of land. We created Strenovia to separate ourselves from the mortals.”
“Why?”
“Do you know how tiresome life can become after countless ages pass by, offering nothing new for you to experience?”
“I never really thought about it before.”
“No, I imagine not. You understand by now, I hope, that we can only die by our own wish? Only five Dragons have ever chosen to fade from existence. And there are two –Daknanyx is one of them— who left the Earth, and therefore their omnipotence, to live elsewhere in the cosmos. Despite boredom and malaise, it is hard for an immortal to simply let go of life. There is nothing for us once this existence passes. No afterlife, no reincarnation. We simply cease to be. Strenovia by design blankets its inhabitants with peace… a contentment that fends off the tedious emotions of the real world. Here, we can live our immortal lives without boredom. We tried many things before this to keep from falling into despair over life’s lack of ‘newness’.