by G. Akella
I smirk. You could have just used a portal, but some people never change.
George and Lola look as epic as ever. Elongated, spiked muzzles, with powerful limbs, wide wings, and dull silver scales. Each is only a quarter of Velargass’ size, but they seem just as formidable. A wash of warm air hits me from their landing. Raising their heads high, they freeze, still as the Egyptian sphinx.
With only a brief pause, Vaessa leaps down from George’s neck. Landing soundlessly, the necromancer’s daughter places her hand on the handle of a familiar dagger, raises her chin slightly, and walks to meet me. Her appearance is immaculate, as always: high-top black boots, a beige-colored shirt of lace, black leather pants and jacket, silver runes embroidered on her clothes, and her head capped with her characteristic beret. Standing opposite me, the demoness bows her head low.
"Greetings, Your Greatness!" she leads, with a suspiciously neutral tone.
Level 600, ten billion HP. The dragons are at level 500, each with half of their mistress’ health. If Vaessa were to get into a solo fight with Teiran, the freak from the catacombs, I would bet on her winning without a second thought.
"You do remember how much I hate formalities in a casual setting, don’t you? Though you do pull it off like a natural."
I step towards her and pull her in for a hug.
"Hello to you too, my friend."
We embrace for about five seconds, then the necromancer’s daughter pulls away. The same suspicion in her tone is now explicit in her eyes.
"You disappeared, dar," Vaessa sighs. "And we came to understand that the Creator offered you a choice. We feared that he offered you something... better."
"Ah yes, he did! It was a choice between staying with you all, and staying with you all. So after many months of thought, I chose to stay with you all."
She smiles and nods her thanks, then moves aside and gestures towards her dragons. "They’re beautiful, aren’t they, dar?"
They’re not the only ones! But I follow her gaze, mingling admiration and affirmation as I praise her precious companions.
"Beyond words! And soon you’ll have babies on your hands. But before that, tell me how long I’ve been away, and what happened during that time."
A dreary smile lights up her face. She nods to some internal rumination before illuminating me.
"You have been gone for almost a month. It’s probably July in Karn by now. When we left that hall, Jaelitte sent us to Craedia while she herself returned to her dominion. And the elves returned to the forest. You know, dar, Reece was right, back at the entrance to Cathella. You disappeared, and everyone split up. But they are all well. Elnar is training the troops, Gorm is married now, and Salta, Raena and Hagedia are all with child. Everything is doing fine, but..." tears glisten and glide down her cheeks, "we waited for you. We all waited."
Hart... I swallow a bitter lump and hand Vaessa a handkerchief.
"I’m back now. Let’s get everyone together. This isn’t my first disappearance, after all."
She wipes away the streams of sadness and pockets the handkerchief before shaking her head.
"No need. Everyone has gathered already. This morning, my Mistress came to inform us that the world would now receive the final Elder Demon. She sent Kan, Raena and Reece to the Dominion of Illusion. I was just finishing up my rite with the Dragon Soul Essences, as it happens. The ones you gave me, if you remember. I thought the rite would only strengthen the dragons a little bit, but then they began to grow so quickly..." she looks at the dragons, then back to me. "Anyway, Elnar has called us all to Craedia. Max, Alyona, Linara and the other elves will be there by evening. Kan, Reece and Raena, too. Now, I hope you will allow me to speak with Celphata and meet my father. We’ll see each other again in the evening."
"Is your Mistress offended that you are my companion instead of hers?"
"Offended at whom? At the Creator? Not at all. Oh, by the way, Vill has returned to the Gray Frontier. So she has enough to worry about."
With a nod, I turn my gaze to Arakata, though it cannot be seen from here.
"You know... atop the ruined tower in Craedia, Lilit once foretold something to me. ‘If you make it to the end, your prize will be great indeed.’ It turns out she was right. So very right."
At that, Vaessa gives an enigmatic smile. "Ah, dar, you have no idea how right she was!"
I frown. "What do you mean?"
"No, I promised to keep silent. You will find out for yourself soon enough."
I snort. "Well, since you promised, keep your silence. And go see your father. I will see you tonight!"
"Thank you, dar." She stands on her tiptoes, kisses me on the cheek, and vanishes into the air along with her dragons.
Figures. As always, she arrives, commandeers the last handkerchief in the area, and leaves as quickly as she came. It’s time for me to travel to Craedia. Enough lingering. Hart! Gloom! How could I forget about him? I quickly pull up what’s left of my menu and sigh with relief. The boar’s icon has changed - now, its border glows a bright orange color. A one-use summon. A permanent summon! I can never release my razorback again. And so what? As long as the icon is active, that’s all that matters. With bated breath, I mentally press the button, and immediately recoil, dumbfounded...
Fifty feet in front of me, a huge black dragon appears in the air. Level 600. The monster’s predacious face is adorned with curved horns. Its powerful, broad chest is covered in blue-black plates of bone, and its neck and tail in formidable curved spines. Its jaw is massive and full of fangs, white as the virgin snow. If Vaessa’s dragons are heavy fighters, well, this beast is a flying attack platform! Ten billion HP, and the size of Vala’ael. Hart! What happened? Where’s my boar?!
The monster looks down at its feet, then shakes its head and coughs. A jet of bright red flame streams five yards to my right, disappearing over the edge of the platform, but not before leaving a deep, melted trench in the stone. The dragon is as surprised as I am, if not more so. He recoils, crouched back on his hind legs like a sitting dog, and stares dumbly at the miniature smoking valley. Fifteen seconds later, without changing his position, he spreads out his giant wings and cranes his neck to carefully inspect each one. Satisfied, he turns and sees me. His jaw drops. The first time I’ve seen that happen to a dragon, incidentally. With an indistinct growl, he rises and charges off the platform. Falling about five hundred feet from its edge, he spreads his wings and makes three powerful strokes in the air, propelling him to the neighboring mountaintop.
That banishes all doubt. It’s Gloom. My precious pig - now a dragon! That boar and I always had a special connection, so when I left this world, so did he. Now we no longer share experience, and he has no abilities. Besides the flying and fire-breathing. What abilities does a level 600 monster need when he can cough a trench into solid rock?
The dragon reaches the mountain, knocks a teetering boulder from its place with a jet of flame, and soars upwards, burning a long, uneven furrow into the slope. He’s having trouble with his emotions. I know what that’s like. This is exactly why I don’t want to try riding him yet. I’ll meet the guys, chat a little, have a drink, and then Gloom and I will have time to fly off somewhere. Maybe we’ll even take Lita along, if she behaves herself. And yes, black dragons do live in my dominion, so if Gloom’s lucky, it’ll be a double date. Though his transformation - and his new appetites - might not bode so well for his former species. Poor, poor pigs.
Twenty minutes pass, and Gloom grows tired of playing battleship and disfiguring the neighboring mountain. He zips up into the air a mile or two, then swoops down to the platform. His landing is gentle, as if he’s been flying for a lifetime. But then he approaches and nudges my stomach with his muzzle.
"Gloom! I've missed you!" I wrap my arms around his face, placing my cheek against his cool, rough skin. "I wouldn’t have minded you staying a boar, you know, but this..."
"A dragon is better, for sure," I hear someone say. It sounds vaguely like Bonbo
n. "A pig can roast in the fire, but can’t breathe it. And pigs definitely don’t fly. Whole point of the idiom, really. Plus, you Elder Demons like to battle in the sky, remember?"
"Is that..." I recoil, stumble awkwardly over my conjured chair, and fall flat on my rear. "You can talk?"
"So?" Gloom grins. "All dragons receive the gift of speech at some point in their lives."
I hold up my left hand as I grab my flask with my right and take a couple of solid gulps.
Hart! Shaking my head, I twist the cap back on and stare at the dragon again.
"So you... do you remember... when you were a boar?" I gasp, hastily unscrewing the flask again.
Gloom’s grin only widens.
"I even remember you trying to make me drink cognac in that cramped stable belonging to your brother in the order. And your girlfriend giving me those demonic ghost wings that one night." He makes no effort to disguise the sarcasm in his voice. "Fun times. So, will the fun continue?"
"There wasn’t enough cognac for me, you know," I grunt, recovering a little as I recall the unforgettable binge. "But I did bring you fruit. A whole plate of fruit."
Gloom nods, shaming me further, "Uh-huh. Thanks. That should be enough a light snack. If I were a chicken, that is."
He lifts his head and squints at me.
"I imagine you’re going to Craedia? Well, hop on and we’ll talk on the way. I've missed you too, you know."
"I can fly on my own, as it happens."
"And you could run on your own before, but for some reason you still summoned me. Come on, get on. Riding a dragon is more epic than flapping around with demon wings!"
I smile. "You’re not wrong. Plus, I shouldn’t fly on this," I drain the flask, then climb onto Gloom’s neck.
It really is time to go. I want to see my wife and friends more than anything.
We don’t talk much on the way. Each of us thinks his own thoughts, and the flight is short. Ten minutes at most. Once I arrive at the border of Craedia, I discover to my surprise that Lita has shielded all of the castle’s sentients from me. I smile as I remember Vaessa’s words about a surprise, and I render myself and my dragon invisible. My wife has seen me by now, of course, but the guys still have not seen Gloom. I can’t spoil that surprise.
As I approach the fortress, a deep sadness grips my heart. It’s like the feeling of returning home after many years away, only to find your parents have suddenly grown old. Mom will never scold you for failing a math test again, nor will your father throw a football around with you. You can still go to a game, sure, but it’s all different now.
The fortress is completely restored. Imposing, ready to repel any enemy attack. Of course, no enemy is coming. Lita has removed the curse from the princedom, but who would ever venture to attack a territory controlled by two Elder Demons together? The dangerous adventures are over. That’s not a bad thing, nor is it a good thing. It’s simply a transition. A new life.
My first surprise is waiting for me as soon as we land. Tilly alone stands on duty in the wide-open fortress gate. If lazy pacing from one side of the gate to the other with hands grasped behind her back and swinging a tail adorned with a pink bow can be considered "on duty." Suddenly, I remember Farot. The young snub-nosed girl in that helmet that always slid down, always running to report to James when this or that party arrived at the fort. Now, she is an elite huntress. At least on the outside. I imagine she’s still the same on the inside, and so I cannot fathom what Elnar must have been drinking when promoting her to the rank of centurion.
A smile creeps across my lips as I jump to the ground and walk up to the welcoming gate, Gloom moving silently behind me. When we reach the halfway point, I remove my invisibility. Despite the fact that a few dozen soldiers patrol the wall, Tilly is still the one to see us first. Naturally. The girl whirls around, her eyebrows soaring into the air, but her confusion lasts less than a second.
"The prince! The prince has arrived!" she screams at the gate, running towards Gloom and me with a face of rapturous joy as the dumbfounded sentries look on.
Nothing to see here. Just an Elder Demon and a colossal black dragon. A few feet away, Tilly puts on the brakes, apparently trying to ascertain how formally she should relate to me. But at the same moment, she abandons all pretense and throws herself around my neck.
"We’ve been waiting for so long, dar!" she whispers in my ear, giving me a peck on the cheek. Then, remembering her manners, she steps back and bows. And just as quickly, she forgets me completely as she gapes at the dragon.
"...Gloom?" she shuffles her feet, transfixed by the onyx-black monster. "I didn’t know you were... I only have these..."
Tilly extends two large pieces of fruit to the dragon, shrugging guiltily.
I move to reassure the demoness. "Don’t worry. He likes them just as much as he did before."
With a wink at Gloom, I head for the gate.
"You go ahead and laugh," Gloom sniffs in the channel. "This is good food, and she’s a caring demon. Unlike some."
The dragon leans his head forward to gently take the offered treat with his teeth and munch on it enthusiastically.
"Legion! Pre-sent!" Elnar barks as soon as I reach the gate.
The sound of steel moving to attention is deafening. Iam raises the flagstaff up high as the scowling beast gives me a friendly wink from the wind-whipped banner. The legate turns sharply on his heels and moves towards me, his firm steps and jingling mithril armor the only breakers of the silence hanging over the square.
"We greet you, Lord! The First Legion of the Free Princedom of Craedia stands at attention!" He stops two yards away.
But I see more than military cold in Elnar’s eyes. He searches my visage, as if trying to find familiar features. So much time has passed... So much has changed...
"Hello, James!" I step forward and embrace the commander tightly, then break and look around at the assembled troops. I give my voice some magic amplification.
"Greetings, all!"
The legion roars back at me as I nod and turn to Elnar, slapping him on the shoulder and smiling. "Announce a city holiday! Tell our guys that I’ll be here this evening, eager to receive them."
James’ lips spread in a warm smile. "Of course, dar," he responds, just as my eyes find my wife’s.
Lita is standing to the left of the dungeon gate in a relaxed pose, leaning back against the wall, her arms crossed. She is watching the action in the square, irony unmasked on her face. A white shirt, beige pants, and brown leather boots complement her narrow waist, slender legs, and black hair laced with silver. Hart! I know very well who my wife is by now. Then why does the sight of her still steal my breath away so completely?
Behind me, Elnar dryly issues orders, and legionaries respond with joyful noise, but my world has narrowed to this short, slender, powerful, impossibly beautiful woman.
The next second, I’m beside my smiling wife, pulling her waist to mine, running a hand over her cheek, and putting my lips against hers. Lita’s body goes limp, and she throws her hands over my shoulders and closes her eyes. From the square behind us, an approving roar rings out, just as it had at the gates of Mishtah - except that now the woman I hold is mine, and mine alone.
After an eternity of bliss, Lita lightly places a hand on my chest and pushes away.
"Hello, my dear. You sure took your time. It is so like you to leave a pregnant girl to the mercy of her fate."
"Excuse me?" I gasp in shock. "You’re..."
"No, I will certainly not excuse you," she shook her head. "Pregnant wives are not to be abandoned. We can get quite antsy, you know."
Twisting out of my arms, Lita looks at my bewildered expression with some doubt, then nods thoughtfully and disappears into the dungeon.
I feel like a barrel of ice water has just been poured over me. I’m going to be a father?! We're going to have a baby?! After a full minute of shock, I rush to catch up with my wife, who has reached the hallway of the third floor by n
ow. Gently grabbing her, I turn her face towards mine.
It’s difficult to keep my voice from shaking. "You’re... you’re pregnant?"
"I said that already. We’re going to have a boy," she answers.
"But a succubus can only conceive if she is truly in love..."
Lita frees her hand and runs it lightly over my cheek. Undisguised grief floods her voice.
"Remember when we discussed who would be the smart one in our family, dear? Well, I always knew, but I really had no idea things would be so lopsided. I wonder if it’s too late."
She shakes her head and enters the prince’s chambers, pausing at the door.
"By the way, you have two wives, not just one. In case you didn’t know."
"Two wives?! What are you talking about!"
I look down the corridor, searching for some sign of salvation from the madness conquering my mind. Paintings hang on the walls, and guards stand at their posts. I look back to my wife.
"Nothing. Just accept it. It’s true."
Lita gives me an angelic smile and a wink as she vanishes behind the door.
I feel like I’m the butt of a joke in some ridiculous fantasy novel as I follow her - and stop dead in my tracks. Sitting on a white leather sofa complemented by a table bearing a bowl of fruit, is a woman, her legs and arms crossed. Sata. She is clad in silver-stitched leather half-boots, shorts and a black vest. In fact, she looks exactly as she did on the day of our first - and last - meeting. I haven't forgotten...
My wife points to our guest, gracefully saunters over to the fruit table, and takes an apple from a vase. She bites off a small piece.
"I told him about you already. I mean, he clearly hasn’t processed it yet, so I doubt he truly appreciates this moment..."
"Hello, Krian!" Sata rises and bows her head. Her voice has that familiar throaty quality to it. "I’m sorry that I only now have the opportunity to see you. Lita and I have discussed everything. I sincerely hope you’re not about to leave two defenseless women to their fates?"