Through the Never

by J. A. Culican

  “It’s all right. You must use different utensils. We are just happy you enjoy it.”

  Avarax nodded. “It is delicious.” It really was. “What is the meat called?”

  “Chicken.”

  Chicken! They proliferated even more than humans, apparently. Avarax looked at the others, using their chopsticks so dexterously. Their portions were much smaller. A lesser being might’ve felt guilty, but he deserved to eat more.

  The elder’s irises roved back and forth. “Please, don’t hold back. You are our honored guest.”

  Avarax studied some of the human hatchlings. They looked at his food with expectant eyes, like his own littermates when Mother regurgitated a part-digested elephant for them. A pit formed in his stomach, and it didn’t quite feel like hunger. He lowered the accursed chopsticks.

  The elder sighed. “We don’t have much. The Tivari take most of it to the pyramid. They’ve told us for generations that it is an offering to our Creators, but Aralas taught us that it’s all a lie.”

  The orcs had duped humans into believing gods had created humans to serve them; now, this Aralas was replacing one lie with another. “Just what did he say?”

  The leader raised that fuzzy eyebrow. “He didn’t tell your people?”

  Avarax let his gaze bore into the man, snuffing out all suspicions with Dragon Magic. “No. Tell me.”

  The elder’s eyes glossed over. A smile formed on his face. “Yang-Di, Lord of the Sun, created humans as a gift to his consort, Guanyin. They watched over us and protected us, until the Year of the Second Sun, when Yanluo blinded us from the truth of Their Love. We turned from Them and were conquered by the Tivari. Yet Their love for us endured.” He pointed to the iridescent moon. “They left their son, Moshen, to keep watch, waiting for when we were ready to repent.”

  Avarax almost choked up his food trying to keep from laughing. It sounded like the humans were trading in one master for another. In a choice between elves or orcs, at least the orcs would make sure the humans didn’t starve.

  Shouts and screams, mixed with guttural barks, erupted from the edge of the village. A hush settled over the cooking area as everyone around him set their bowls and chopsticks down and exchanged glances.

  “Tivari Templars!” someone yelled in the distance.

  The leader’s eyes bulged like someone had wrapped their claws around his neck. He jumped to his feet and grabbed Avarax’s hand. “We need to hide you. They’ll kill you.”

  As if they could. “Why?”

  “Do they let you to visit other villages where you come from? We’re not allowed.”

  Who knew? Avarax shrugged, the motion rather easy with human shoulders. “Don’t worry.”

  The ranks of orcs closed in, herding men, women, and whelps alike, toward the center of the village. The people murmured. Several of the females sniffled.

  Avarax counted twenty orcs. The villagers outnumbered them ten-to-one, yet cowered as if they faced a dragonling. With such cowardice, how were they ever going to rise up?

  One of the orcs stepped forward, the sheen of its mesh armor sparkling in the firelight. When it spoke, its accent snarled like a pack of angry dire wolves. “Line up. Where is Cleric Pyuz?”

  The human elder motioned Avarax to the back row of humans before he stepped forward. He dropped to his knees, pressed his forehead to the ground, and then looked up. “Master, Cleric Pyuz said he was going to the next village over. We didn’t dare question him.”

  Avarax chuckled. Not a bad answer for an old man, but no doubt, the orcs knew—

  The orc commander held up a crystal sphere with swirling lights. “Liar. He is somewhere around here.”

  The elder’s voice cracked. “I swear, we haven’t seen him.”

  “If you don’t tell us what happened, we will slaughter all of you.”

  Avarax shuffled on his feet. While it might be fun to watch the orcs in action, it risked him losing Mai.

  “Let us first offer our harvest to the gods, so that they may look favorably upon us in the afterlife.” The elder banged his head against the ground several times.

  Stalling for time. The old man could think on his feet. Or on his knees, as the case may be.

  The orc commander snarled. “Kill them all, on my command.”

  His underlings drew their weapons.

  The humans sank to their knees. Crying mothers shielded whimpering children.

  All the groveling left Avarax the only one standing. All orc eyes fell on him.

  “Impertinent!” The commander stomped forward, its boots clopping on the hard-packed dirt. Yanking a serrated combat knife from its sheath, it grabbed Avarax by the shoulder and drove the blade towards his gut.

  The metal snapped on his skin.

  The orc stared at its shattered blade, gawking. Everyone fell silent. Some of his underlings even lowered their weapons.

  A grin came unbidden to Avarax’s lips. He reached out with his hand and crushed the orc’s windpipe. Eyes bulging, it clawed at his neck and gasped for air. Then it crumpled to the ground.

  The rest of the orcs exchanged surprised looks before locking eyes on him and levelling their weapons.

  “Azkoth grz lokin zzt!” Avarax uttered. Energy surged from the ground and through his legs. It mingled with the dragonstone in his core and coursed through his arms. He extended his fingers. Bolts of lightning arced out, lancing through the line of orcs. They collapsed, frail bodies caught in fits of seizures. It might’ve been satisfying, had it not been so easy.

  One by one, the humans lifted their heads, looking first at the dying orcs and then at Avarax. Excited chatter erupted all at once.

  “With power like that, we will overthrow the orcs!”

  “He might be as powerful as Aralas!”

  As if an elf could even begin to match his power.

  Many approached and bowed low.

  The village elder guided an old man and woman over. “Master, Mai’s parents wanted to meet you.”

  Fists in palms, the two bowed low. When they raised their heads, the father said, “Master, you have saved the village. We would be honored if you married our daughter.”

  As long as whatever married entailed included mating, it didn’t sound bad. Avarax grinned. “I want to see her now.”

  The mother shook her head. “I’m sorry, Master, but the Elf Angel took her to the pyramid to train.”

  Avarax frowned, finding it required several more muscles than a smile. “Which pyramid?”

  The father cocked his head, in what was decidedly not a mating ritual. “Is there more than one?”

  Stupid rubes, of course they wouldn’t know about the other ones all over the world. Which meant Mai must’ve gone to the nearest one. Avarax’s forehead bunched up of its own accord. Getting to the pyramid would be easy, but the other dragon lived very close to there. There was also an elf of some power, as well as Mai herself, whose voice resonated with his dragonstone. Certainly he could overcome them all, but it risked an injury; perhaps a chipped claw. “So she will be back tomorrow?”

  The mother bowed her head. “She said she would be back in a quarter of the White Moon.”

  A week. Not much time at all.

  Having lived nearly fifty millennia, Avarax sometimes spent centuries asleep. The passing of decades felt like a blink of an eye as the years zipped by. Yet, waiting for Mai’s return to her village, just a single quarter cycle of the White Moon seemed to last a tortuous eternity.

  In that time, he’d teleported the length and breadth of Tivaralan, mingling with humans to find out how far discontent with orc rule spread. True to what the village elder had said, the Elf Angel Aralas had travelled far and sown seeds of insurrection among all the tribes of mankind. For their part, the orcs mistook them for isolated uprisings, and not a widespread rebellion about to boil over.

  In his journeys, Avarax had encountered many females of different skin coloring and hair, most who would’ve willingly mated with him. Makeda, wit
h thick black hair and skin as dark as the bitter beverage her people drank, had the makings of a halfway decent sorceress. Olive-skinned Tatiana could reasonably see the future, even if she couldn’t tell she was talking to a dragon in man’s clothing. With swords as bronze as her complexion, Vanya fought with unrivaled speed and precision…for a human. Rust-toned Willow Beauty commanded the animals and forces of nature nearly as well as a juvenile dragon.

  Still, none had connected with his heart like Mai’s voice had. He saved his human virginity for his inexorable reunion with her. The torture of waiting would make it all the sweeter. Perhaps as sweet as a wild boar roasted in apples.

  At long last, the day arrived. Avarax scanned his treasure pile, searching for the perfect outfit to wear. The villagers thought he was a magician, but the wizard’s hat in his collection was blood-stained. Instead, he settled on the ceremonial gold cuirass, which had belonged to a so-called prince. A quick, hour-long look in a gilded mirror let him know just how handsome he looked. Yes, the human body he’d created couldn’t help but be perfect and dashing—a reflection of his normal form, one which he found he didn’t really miss.

  Pulses rippled through the world’s energy fields, harmonizing with his dragonstone, and yanking his attention from the mirror. Her voice, calling to him over thousands of miles. At long last. A shiver ran up his spine. With a word of magic, he slipped through the ethers.

  He rematerialized at the edge of her village.

  In the middle of a couple hundred stampeding orc soldiers.

  Fleeing.

  Source unseen, Mai’s voice carried like a raging storm over the staccato clop of orc boots. Mingling with the strums of some stringed instrument, her notes rose and fell, like ocean waves. The melody reverberated in his dragonstone, sending vibrations through his skinny arms and legs and turning them to jelly. Escape, the song whispered to some primal urge, like the hatchling’s instinct to avoid its father, lest it be devoured.

  It took all of Avarax’s willpower to slog through the magic toward the village, brushing off any orc which might’ve careened into him. The closer to the huts he came, the louder her voice sounded as it reached crescendo. It was amazing to think someone so small could evoke music with such intensity, rivaling that of a young dragon.

  Avarax worked his way through the hovels to the center of the village. Like cornered vermin, the humans cowered behind the cauldrons and log benches. Yet standing at their head, Mai stood with a straight posture and squared shoulders—the perfect stance for channeling a Dragon Song. In her arms, she cradled a pear-shaped string instrument with a fretted neck.

  His dragonstone raced. His human hands and feet quivered.

  Certainly it wasn’t the Dragon Song affecting him. It was Mai herself.

  Though plain and lanky compared to the voluptuous beauties he’d met over the preceding weeks, she looked more vibrant than the first time he’d seen her. Dirt gone, her face glowed, while wind tousled her hair.

  Her large eyes widened as they met his, and her music came to an abrupt stop. Never breaking her gaze, she staggered back several steps. Her parents stood from the huddling mass of cowards and came up beside her.

  “It’s okay,” the father said. “He’s the one who destroyed the Templars.”

  Mai turned to him, eyes never leaving Avarax. “That’s probably why the Tivari came back today, to investigate. Revealing my power just now may have taken away the element of surprise. Without that, the rebellion doesn’t stand a chance.”

  “I will protect you,” Avarax said. If the orcs dared to assail his lair, dared to harm Mai, he’d immolate each and every one of their outposts.

  She shook her head. “This isn’t about my safety, it’s about the future of humanity. You wouldn’t understand.”

  “The Tivari!” someone shouted.

  “They are regrouping,” said another, voice trembling.

  The humans’ collective wail would make a banshee hang her head in shame. The clop of orc boots marching in unison grew louder.

  Mai’s hands tightened around her instrument. “I stopped the song too soon. It won’t work as well the next time!”

  Avarax reached toward her. “Come with me. I will save you.”

  “I can’t let my friends and family die.” Her eyes pleaded. “You can save all of us. Show them your true form.”

  True form…she knew. But how? No matter. “If I do this, will you come with me?”

  Mai fiddled with a loose lock of hair. Her eyes strayed past him, to where the orcs must be approaching, and then around them, where the pitiful humans scattered like a disturbed nest of cattle.

  At last, she took a deep breath and bowed low. “Yes. Please.”

  “Tzrf,” he uttered. His human form morphed, the gold cuirass popping open as he grew. His size swelled as arms bent into forelegs and wings sprouted. Hands and fingers curled into talons, while his tail sprouted, thickened, and elongated.

  Humans and orcs froze in place, gawking and screaming as dragonfear took over. They shrunk in relation to his expanding size. In just a few seconds, he straddled the entire village and surrounding fields. Now the bipedals weren’t much taller than the length of his shortest tooth.

  Avarax sucked in a breath. The oxygen ignited around his dragonstone. His roar rocked the earth and sent a fireblast into the midst of the orc troops. They didn’t have a chance to scream before being reduced to charred corpses. A lucky few who happened to be on the edge of the flames crunched under his forefoot.

  In two steps, he cleared the village and turned around. His dragon eyes, so much keener than his human ones, picked out Mai from the simpering mass of humans. He reached over and plucked the musical instrument out of her arms with the tip of one of his talons, and flicked it away.

  “No!” she screamed. “That was a gift from Aralas.”

  She wouldn’t need some silly elf toy where they were going. He swept her up in his claws. She easily fit inside the pocket of his palm, which would protect her from the thin air and biting cold of high altitudes.

  He coiled his hind legs and vaulted skyward. Spreading his wings, he flapped a few times. Down below, the gust from his wings kicked up dirt and knocked people off their feet. Over the mountains they flew, the cool air caressing his scales. After a week in human form, it felt good to be a dragon again.

  Mai squirmed around in his foreclaws for much of the flight, on one occasion poking her head out from between two of his fingers. It almost tickled, enough that he considered teleporting them the rest of the way.

  He thought the better of it. Very few humans had ever flown, and survived to talk about it. Finally, she crouched down into his palm and enjoyed the unique experience.

  Clearing the mountains, he sped over the plains of Vanya’s bronze-skinned humans until they at last came to his mountaintop lair. His dragonstone pulsated faster now, as he descended in slow circles. Soon, very soon, they’d be locked in passionate embrace. No doubt he’d relish in what would be a virgin human male’s time-consuming climb to mating bliss.

  He shot out his wings to slow their descent, and landed on the platform he’d carved from the mountainside. Holding Maiclose to his chest, he crawled into the darkness, which her weak human eyes couldn’t penetrate. Her heart jittered in concert with his dragonstone, echoing the resonance of istrium radiation from deep within the mountain.

  He opened his foreclaw and she tumbled out onto the rest of his treasures. It was amusing to watch her pat blindly around the floor, hands probing the gold. Perhaps he’d one day teach her to feel how gold magnified istrium vibrations and fueled a dragon’s growth and power. Perhaps such skill was beyond a human’s puny intellect.

  “Trszk,” he said, drawing on Shallow Magic. The cavern flared into brightness.

  Her mouth gaped as her head swept over his collection, sparkling in the magic light. She gasped.

  A grin came unbidden to his face. He gazed into her eyes. She might not be beautiful compared to some of the huma
ns he’d met over the past week, but her naiveté was so adorable.

  She stumbled back several steps, clinking as she fell into a pile of coins and sent them scattering. Her breaths came out short and ragged.

  He laughed. No doubt, the magnificence of his true form aroused her. No matter how complex humans thought they were, they were still governed by their base instincts. It was time to exploit that. “Strip.”

  Propping herself up on her elbow, Mai pulled the sack tighter about her thin shoulders. If she were trying to entice him with her female bumps and mounds, it wasn’t working: it only brought out the hard edges of her bones. In any case, she clearly didn’t understand that it wasn’t physical attraction that made her so alluring.

  He’d have to help her understand. He extended a talon—of course, it was as large as her, and in any case, no matter how glorious his dragon body must have been in her eyes, it wasn’t equipped for the task at hand.

  “Frzt,” he uttered. The amplified istrium radiation coursed through him. His beautiful form shrunk. His splendid wings shriveled and hardened into shoulder blades, and his chiseled haunches contorted into hips and legs, while his muscular forelegs transformed into lanky arms.

  Once complete, he looked down at her. Way down. Something was wrong; he was still twice her height, even on two legs. He studied his hands and feet, only to find them still red-scaled and shaped like his usual claws, only smaller.

  In his still-wide angled visual field, he caught his reflection in a gilded mirror. Though bipedal, he stood in dragonoid form, with crimson serpentine scales, and gleaming horns extending from his handsome dragon face. His tail protruded from his rear, ending in a spaded tip. Apparently, he hadn’t quite mastered the transformation into a human body yet.

  He cursed to himself. He wouldn’t be able to test his human virility just yet, not with his mating proboscis coiled up inside him. She would be disappointed. He snuck a quick glance at her, still lying on her side with the rest of his treasures.

  Indeed, her body trembled with need, eyes glassing over in arousal.

  He had to satisfy her now. He reached out with his tail and wrapped around her ankle. A quick tug brought her closer. Reaching out with a claw, taking care not to cut her with the tips, he grasped her wrists and helped her to her feet.