The Awakening

by Andrew Wichland

  Prologue

  Frail Hope

  Eirian flew through the night as fast as her large wings would allow. As often as she could, she looked over her shoulder. In the moonlight behind her horned tail, she saw two figures flying after her. Even though they were still miles away, they were slowly catching up.

  She turned her head back around, placed one of paws against her lower abdomen, and thought about her unborn children. Her wings were beginning to strain. As she flew above a sea of trees, a sharp pain ranked through her lower abdomen.

  “No, not now, it’s too early; just a little longer, my children,” she pleaded of them. However, the pain increased, and she faltered a little in her flight and ducked behind a hill.

  Relieved to spot her destination, she began her descent to a clearing. She landed awkwardly on three paws, because the fourth paw clutched a box. Folding her wings, she surveyed the area. Trees of monstrous size surrounded her. A stone gateway was set about forty feet behind a smooth crystal, which was nearly ten feet in diameter. Along the edge of the crystal, lines of runes ran along the side. At the top, sides and the bottom four lines of runes crossed to meet at a circle in the middle.

  Eirian quickly hopped forward to the crystal, arched her neck, and brought her head down. When she opened her mouth, fire shot from it, enveloping the crystal. Then she closed her mouth, stopped the bombardment of fire, and hopped back. Now the runes were shining like the moon. Five beams of light shot from the crystal to the stone gateway and ran along the inner frame. After a moment, the beams met at the center, and the gateway formed a light that flowed like water.

  “We’re almost out, my children; just a little longer,” she said.

  A fresh wave of pain ran through her body, and as fast as she could, she hopped forward on three legs and passed through the gateway. She emerged on a small mountainside on a different planet.

  For the rest of the known Galaxy the planet she was now on was known as Ta Jar. But like all planets that housed a non-magical settlement it now had a different name. To all free people it was known as Amal.

  Once again, trees filled the area, but she saw a small town in front of her. It appeared to be less than a mile away.

  She collapsed onto her side and hummed a tune as her body began to change. Her forelegs and paws turned into arms and hands, while her hind legs and paws became legs and feet. Her spikes shrank into her body, and her horns disappeared into her skull, where light-brown hair flowed out. Her tail pulled into her spine, while her snout shrank and formed into a nose. Her scales turned into white skin, and her wings surrounded her and became a light-blue, flowing robe.

  All the while, her body had shrunk in size until she was almost five times shorter in length and almost twelve times thinner than her true body. However, two things remained the same. Her swollen belly and her eyes were still as violet as her scales had been.

  When the transformation was complete, Eirian stood up on her bare feet and looked down at the village. Holding onto her belly, and still clutching the gold-embroidered, wooden box, she started her descent.

  How can humans stand just having two legs? she thought, as she stumbled through the streets of the village. The moon was still out, and some of the villagers stared at her as she walked through the night.

  Ignoring their looks, she quickly got out of the streets as hover cars went by. She stopped at a small, single-story, shingle-roofed house. The front of the house stood on stilts, and a small flight of steps led up to the porch. She stumbled up the steps and banged on the door. After several long moments, a light turned on inside, and a shadow moved under the door.

  The door finally opened, revealing a woman who was struggling to pull on her bathrobe. She appeared to be of Asian descent, and Eirian guessed that she was in her late twenties or early thirties. She wore a kind smile despite the fact that she had clearly been awoken in the middle of the night.

  “May I help you?” the woman asked as she tied the sash.

  Seconds later, a man joined her at the door. He wore a pair of pajama pants, but his broad, muscular chest and arms were bare. He was also of Asian descent and was a head taller than the woman at his side.

  “Chikako, who is it? It’s almost one,” said the man, but he stopped when he saw Eirian and his eyes went wide. “Eirian?” he muttered. The woman at his side looked at him.

  “Jun, my old friend, I need your help,” Eirian said. Then she fell, and Jun caught her before she hit the ground as another contraction went through her body.

  The man brought her inside the house. He led her into the bedroom and helped her get settled on a sleeping mat.

  “Who is this woman, Jun?” Chikako said.

  “She’s an old friend, Chikako. Now go wake the doctor. She’s in labor,” Jun said.

  Eirian reached out and grabbed his arm tightly. “No . . . doctor . . . you . . . must . . . do . . . it . . .” she said through gritted teeth. Then she threw her head back in pain.

  Jun looked at Eirian for a moment as she writhed on his bed. Then he turned to Chikako.

  “Honey, get me a bowl of water, some string, scissors, clean washcloths, and soft blankets. Hurry!”

  Chikako quickly left the room, and he turned back to Eirian. She gripped his hand tightly, and he said, “It’ll be alright,” but as she was engulfed by another wave of pain, she wasn’t sure if his words were intended to reassure her or himself.

  Almost four hours later, Eirian was drenched in sweat, and the lower part of her robe was soaked in both sweat and blood. Weakly, she leaned back on her elbows and then slowly reached out for her two sons and her daughter, whom Chikako had wrapped in soft blankets. As she held them in her arms, tears ran down her face. She took a deep breath and then looked from her three children to her friend Jun and his wife, Chikako.

  “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” she asked them as she gazed at the babies.

  “Just like their mother,” Jun said, and Chikako nodded, smiling broadly.

  “Jun, there is a particular reason I came to you and your wife,” Eirian said. She tried to hide the desperation in her voice. “I must ask you something.”

  “What?” Jun asked. His expression showed that he dreaded what she was going to say.

  Trying to smile, she laid down her youngest two children and held out her first-born. “Raise my first-born as you would your own.”

  Before he could reply, she added, “My other son and daughter must be separated, too. Give my second- and third-born to trusted families in another village, and give those friends the same instructions I will give you now. Don’t tell any of the children that they’re one of three until they’re ready to know.”

  She reached beside her for the wooden box and opened it. Inside were eight bracelets, each with a different colored crystal in the center. The sides of each bracelet had a different design and little raised engravings of weapons.

  She showed her friends the bracelets. “You’ll know when the time is right when they receive their bracelets. Make sure they grow big and strong, and don’t tell them about me until they’re ready,” she said. Then she broke into sobs.

  Chikako and Jun reached out and took the children from her. Immediately, she covered her mouth and started humming a tune. When she drew her hand away, she held three teeth in her palm. Unlike human teeth, these were an inch long, curved back, and sharp: dragon teeth.

  “Along with other things, these will protect them and help them find each other,” she said.

  Holding the dragon teeth as if they were made of glass, she slipped one into each of the children’s blankets. Gingerly, Eirian climbed to her feet, took a few wobbling steps forward, and looked down at her two sons and daughter. Tears overflowed down her face as she bent down and kissed
her children.

  She then looked up at the couple. “Thank you for doing this for me. Five others will be chosen besides my sons and daughter. I must go now.” She headed for the door.

  “Eirian, you just gave birth. You should rest,” Chikako said, stepping forward to stop her.

  As Eirian reached the door, she stopped, but she didn’t even look back. “If they find me here, it won’t take them long to find my children. I must go in order to protect my children and the village from them. I pray I’ll see the children again.” Then she left the house.

  At first, she walked down the street, but soon she was running, tears flowing like a river down her cheeks. When she reached a safe distance from the village, she began to sing the same song that she’d hummed after entering the planet. A few moments later, she spread her wings, once more a dragon, and flew back to the gateway.

  As she approached the area, she took a deep breath and released a ball of fire at the crystal, which opened the gateway. She flew through the gateway and back where she’d come from, back into the night sky. As she soared over the trees, she spotted her pursuers coming her way.

  Now it’s time to fight, she thought. Anger replaced her sense of loss at giving up her children, and she sped toward them.

  Just before the two dragons reached her, they broke formation, one heading left, the other right. In response, she banked to the side. Swinging her tail forward, she nailed one dragon in the head with her horned tail. As he fell to the ground, his head caved in, and she turned sharply and fell in behind the other dragon.

  The two weaved all over the sky as the remaining dragon tried to get her off his tail. When she got close enough, she arched her neck a little, took a deep breath, and aimed her head forward, fire racing from her mouth. Before the fire reached him, however, he peeled and shot up. Then he twisted back down, connecting hard with her back and buckling her wings.

  As they plummeted to the earth, the battle continued. She tried to get her jaws around his neck, and he aimed for hers.

  “Don’t mess with this mom!” Eirian growled. Using her wings, she forced her opponent to the ground and kicked off with her hind legs.

  His back hit the ground first, knocking down a few trees with a series of loud crashes and a single loud crack.

  Muscles straining, she spread her wings with a snap like thunder. She sailed forward a little before crashing hard onto the ground. Her wings brushed against the trees, and dirt and debris flew everyone. When the dust, branches, and leaves finally settled, she gingerly climbed to her paws. She tested her wings and flinched in pain.

  At least my sons and daughter are safe from the Black Dragon, she thought. Still, he won’t be happy when he learns his two goons failed to capture me. And if he finds out I gave birth, he’ll start looking for all of them, not just me.

  She folded her wings and galloped away as fast as she could.

  a

  In the house on stilts, Chikako comforted the fitful baby in her arms. “What should we call him? Eirian didn’t name him.”

  Jun reached for the baby. As he held his new adopted son, the baby opened his eyes.

  “I name you Alac—Alac-Ryuu,” he said, and Alac cooed.

  Chikako picked up the other newborns. She said, “Jun, they’re all lovely children. Do

  we really have to separate them?”

  Jun looked at her and nodded. “Yes, unfortunately, we do. I’ll send the younger boy to a friend of mine, and the girl will go to a friend of yours. If they stay together, the Black Dragon will find them quickly.”

  “Who was that woman? And what makes these children so important?” Chikako pulled up a chair and sat across from Jun at their table.

  “I can’t explain it now, but trust me, they’re important. In fact, they’re more important than either of us can possibly imagine,” he said.

  He rose from the table and carefully placed each child gently on the mat. Then he returned to the table, took the box, and opened the lid.

  Chikako peered inside. “What are they, anyway?”

  Jun closed the box carefully. “The keys to their future.”

  Chapter 1

  Alac-Ryuu Jun Yamamoto

  Twelve years, three hundred sixty-four days later

  The sun rose over the house on stilts. Inside the house were signs of happiness. On the mantel piece over the fireplace, a brigade of photos showed bits and pieces of this family’s life together: a little boy in a hover stroller posing with his parents, taking his first step, playing with his father, dancing on his mother’s shoes.

  The sun’s light crept into one of the rooms and fell onto the closed eyes of a twelve-year-old boy. When he was in school, his teachers and family called him Alac or Alac-Ryuu, but to his closest friends he was just Ryuu or Robin. He turned over on his mat, trying to get more sleep, and then heard a knock on his door.

  “Alac! Time to get up, honey! Breakfast is almost ready.”

  It was his mother. Alac groaned and pulled the blankets over his head.

  “Alac-Ryuu Jun Yamamoto, get your butt out of bed now and come to breakfast!” Her voice was kind despite the command. Then he heard her walk away.

  He smiled and climbed out of bed. As he gazed briefly in the small bedroom mirror, he saw that the curved tooth, which was hanging from a necklace, shined white on his well-toned chest. His body was muscular from years of training and hard labor. A short while later he climbed out of the shower wrapping a towel around his waist. Hair wet from the water.

  After wiping some steam from the mirror to brush his teeth. His eyes drifted down to the counter. Where his light dampening contacts and white noise plugs were.

  For a second he looked he eyed them. Before shaking his head and leaving the bathroom. Back in his room, he grabbed some clothes from the closet and started to get dressed.

  Walking down the hall, he stopped in front of a larger mirror to adjust his dark hair, which went down to his shoulders. He pulled out a strip of leather and tied his hair back. His face had a savage type of beauty. His features were sharp and angled, particularly around his eyes and ears, which were slightly pointed at the top, middle, and bottom, giving them a backwards stroking angle. Sometimes when he looked in the mirror, the intenseness of his features startled him, but the thing he liked most about his appearance was his hazel eyes. They were a mix of different colors that seemed to shift at random. He looked in the mirror often to see what colors he could get out of them.

  Nevertheless, he didn’t place all of his focus on his good looks. In school, he had already jumped twelve grades ahead. Now he attended his father’s school, which was hidden high in the mountains. He did pretty well in his classes, but sometimes the others made fun of him for his age, for being the head teacher’s son, and for the unusual shape of his ears.

  As he finished tying his hair back, he paused and lowered his gaze, thinking back to when he had first started at the academy. He had been only five, but even then he was as tall as a teenager and six times stronger than a man. As much as his rapid development had scared most of the village, it had frightened him more.

  He remembered walking into the academy as a new student. The older students constantly stared at him, though some showed more curiosity than derision. Now, eight years later, at the verge of thirteen, he already had the body of an eighteen-year-old but had only gotten stronger and a diamond-sharp mind. Still, instead of gaining more acceptance at the school, in some ways things just got worse.

  Shrugging off the memory, he continued down the hall, pulling on his jacket. When he entered the kitchen, his mother was serving pancakes to his dad. Jun was now in his late thirties. Like Ryuu, he was muscular in body, although Ryuu knew he had far to go before he would ever catch up to his father’s experience.

  His mother had long hair, which she also tied back in a ponytail. She was beautiful, with a slim body. Ryuu knew, however, that her willowy appearance was misleading, because it distracted observers from her broad shoulders and the r
olling muscles under her olive skin. In truth, she was just as strong as her husband. She also served as one of Ryuu’s teachers, although she preferred to work with him at home, avoiding any possible encounters with the drifters, smugglers, and pirates who frequently landed on their planet to give and take food and supplies.

  “Morning, Dad,” Ryuu said, sitting at the table opposite his father.

  “Morning, Alac. It’s good to see you out of bed.”

  His mother put the plate of pancakes on the table. Ryuu served himself a few and reached for the maple syrup. Then he looked up at his parents and grinned.

  “Soooo, you guys doing anything later?” Ryuu asked them.

  His father shook his head. “Apart from your exam tonight—which you should be getting ready for—nothing much.” He turned his attention back to his pancakes.

  “What about tomorrow?” Ryuu asked. He picked up his fork and took a bite.

  His mother said, “Well, I promised the neighbor I would help her redesign her kitchen tomorrow. I’ll be out all day.”

  His father tapped his fork against the table. Then he smacked his hand to his forehead. “Wait—tomorrow is a special day!” he said.

  His mother stared at them, a look of shock on her face slowly appearing.

  Ryuu smiled. It’s about time, he thought.

  Then his mother snapped her fingers and pointed at Jun. “Yeah, it someone’s birthday tomorrow, isn’t it? I hope she doesn’t think we’ve forgotten!” She took a bite of her pancakes.

  “Ah, that’s . . . err . . . she?” Ryuu said, smile fading.

  His father nodded. “It’s an instructor’s birthday is tomorrow.” He turned to Chikako. “Don’t worry; I bought her a fruit basket. Remind me to give it to her.”

  Ryuu looked down at his food, disappointed. They forgot.

  *

  Soon after, Ryuu grabbed his sky surfer. Based on vintage photos from history books, he had concluded that, when open, it looked like an old-fashioned surfboard without the rudder, but in its collapsed position, it looked like a small, box-shaped plate about a foot wide and tall. Most important, it had the ability to fly. It was not as powerful as a sky rider, which was for racing and transport, but it was enough for recreation.