Wings of Change

by Lyn Worthen

  Seated on a large boulder by the shore of the lake not far from the temple complex was a woman.

  “Is that Min Sook Kyoh?”

  The great serpent nodded, then turned away, flying back the way it had come.

  Tim flew down toward the lakeshore, concentrating on transforming back into his human form, imagining – believing – that he felt his limbs reshaping themselves. When he finally thought he felt his feet touch the ground, he looked down, and was both pleased and surprised to find that he had, in fact, managed to become human again without either falling into the lake or landing face-down on the shore.

  Looking up, he saw Min Sook watching him curiously.

  Tim walked toward her, his shoes crunching on small pebbles under his feet, stopping when he was about ten feet away. She looked to him to be no more than thirty, with long, black hair that hung down past her shoulders, and wearing a simple silk jacket in a brightly-colored pattern over a pair of faded blue jeans. A pair of leather sandals lay on the ground near the base of the boulder.

  Tim bowed his head in what he hoped was a gesture of respect. “Are you Min Sook Kyoh?” he asked.

  “I am,” the woman said, returning the respectful greeting. Her English was good, and only lightly accented. Min Sook indicated the dragon tattoo on his forearm. “We do not often see red Imuji here; you are newly-made?”

  “Very newly-made,” Tim said with a nervous smile. “I am Tim MacLaren. My father is Ian MacLaren… and you are my mother.”

  Min Sook’s face had grown pale as he spoke, but she didn’t immediately jump up off the rock and fly away as Tim had feared she might. She simply looked sad.

  “So, you have come into your heritage,” she said after a moment’s pause. “How did you find me?”

  “My friends helped me look,” Tim said simply.

  “Friends are valuable assets,” Min Sook said. “Treat them well, always.”

  “Why did you stay away?” Tim blurted out. He clamped his mouth shut, then changed his mind and took a step closer. “All those years – my whole life – why did you never come?”

  “I am Imuji,” Min Sook said simply.

  “I’m Imuji, too,” Tim said, trying to keep control of his temper. “Does that mean I have to leave behind everyone I know, everyone I love, and live here? I mean, it’s beautiful, but surely you’re allowed to live in other places. Right?”

  Min Sook looked away, staring out across the lake. “When one is Imuji, one has the potential to become Gyo, a true dragon,” she said. “And to become a dragon, you must exercise kindness and compassion, wisdom and good judgment, for one thousand years.” She looked at Tim, and there were tears in her eyes. “I will never become Gyo.”

  “What could you have done that was so wrong?” Tim asked.

  “I was young and foolish and wanted to see the world. I traveled far and experienced many things. And then I met your father and fell in love, and had I been mortal, I would have married him. But I was Imuji, and I was afraid, so I fled. And then I left you behind, as well. Those actions were neither wise nor good.”

  “I’m sure even dragons – Gyo – make mistakes once in a while,” Tim said. “I mean, I would have fried my best friend yesterday if he hadn’t been a junior deity, but he forgave me and came with me to help me find you…” Tim realized he was rambling, and let the sentence trail off.

  Min Sook looked at him in silence.

  Tim tried again. “I guess what I’m trying to say is we want you to come home.” It wasn’t what he’d planned to say, but as he spoke, he knew it was what he needed to say. “I… I need you. I’ve never had a mother, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want one. And besides, I don’t know how to be Imuji, and Dad can’t teach me—”

  Min Sook was looking at him strangely. “You would allow me to be your mother?”

  “You are my mother,” Tim said simply.

  Min Sook said nothing for a long moment, and Tim stood there, digging the toe of his shoe into the pebbly shore. Then she slid down off the stone and put on her sandals.

  “Walk with me,” she said. “This is the ancestral home of the Imuji and the Gyo,” she said as they walked toward the cluster of buildings. “Here we pass our days in quiet contemplation.”

  “It is peaceful,” Tim agreed. The waterfall was a quiet splash in the background. Birds chirped in the woods. From somewhere ahead, he heard music he thought might be a harp. “But don’t you ever get bored?”

  Min Sook smiled. “That is one of the challenges life presents.”

  She showed him around the small village, pausing as he looked into the dojo, where a handful of men and women were practicing a slow, graceful martial art.

  “You may come here as often as you like,” Min Sook said, leading him away from the dojo.

  Tim stopped and looked at her. “So you’re not coming back with me?”

  She shook her head, her expression sad. “I cannot insinuate myself in your life – in your father’s life – based on the events of the past. I have not taken flight for many years, but I will teach you,” she gestured at the village around them, “whenever you choose to visit.”

  “Dad still loves you. He always has—”

  “That is not for you to say.”

  Tim felt the heat building in his chest and dragon tattoo begin to writhe on his forearm. He closed his eyes and clenched his fist, focusing on his breathing, willing himself to remain in his human form.

  “He has a picture of the two of you in his wallet,” he said finally, forcing his voice to stay calm. “You looked so happy.”

  “And I have a picture of him in my heart. But that does not mean that many years have not come between us,” Min Sook said softly. She turned away from Tim, but not before he saw her wistful expression and the glint of tears welling up in her eyes.

  They walked again in silence for several minutes, flute music joining the harp Tim had heard before. The blue Imuji passed overhead, its long, sinuous form winding like a wide ribbon against the pale blue sky.

  “Can you teach me how to change into dragon form whenever I want to?” Tim asked.

  Min Sook nodded. “Yes. It is not difficult.”

  “And how to shield myself from view?”

  “Yes. That requires more practice; but is quite simple, once mastered.”

  “I’d like to get to know you. Maybe you could visit sometime – and maybe you and Dad could get to know each other again.”

  “Perhaps.”

  # # #

  For the next few weeks, when Tim wasn’t at school trying not to stare goggle-eyed at the true form of many of his classmates – like blue-skinned Kashi, the cheerleader, who was constantly texting with one set of hands while carrying her books in another set and waving the third around whenever she talked – he was flying back and forth between his mother’s mountain retreat and his father’s modest suburban rambler. He’d learned how to shift between forms easily, and while he’d gotten pretty good at concealing himself from being easily recognized, he still tried to stay as far from populated areas as he could when he flew.

  “You should come with me,” he said to Ian one Friday afternoon as he prepared to head to Korea for the weekend.

  Ian leaned against the frame of Tim’s bedroom door. “Nah. I’m sure I’ve got about a dozen things I need to do this weekend.”

  “And you can’t name one of them,” Tim said. “Admit it. You want to see her.”

  Ian shrugged. “It’s not like you can carry me,” he said. “And I don’t have a current passport. So it’s a moot point.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” Tim said, grinning. He edged past his dad and headed down the hall, gesturing over his shoulder. “C’mon. And grab your jacket.”

  Tim led his father to the back porch, turning to watch his reaction as Ian came through the door and froze at the sight of Maddie and her Pegasus-drawn chariot standing in the middle of their backyard.

  Ian’s jaw worked, but no sound came out, an
d he finally stopped trying.

  “I know what you mean,” Tim said. “Nice ride, don’t’cha think?”

  Ian nodded, still unable to speak.

  Tim prodded him toward the chariot. “It’s time, Dad,” he said.

  “But what if…” Ian’s protest trailed off as several of Maddie’s snakes turned to look at him.

  “No ‘ifs’,” Tim said. “You two have put off seeing each other for long enough – and for no good reason. Time to bite the bullet.” He nodded at Maddie who clucked at the horses. “You might want to hang on,” he said, shifting into his dragon form. “The lift-off’s pretty intense.”

  Tim flew in circles around the chariot for a little while, watching his father adjust. When he was sure Ian wasn’t going to pass out from shock and tumble out of the chariot, he straightened out and kept pace with the horses for most of the flight.

  As before, the guardian Imuji met them as they neared the mountain village, but instead of leading Maddie’s chariot away, they allowed her to glide into the valley. Tim shifted into human form, landing on the beach alongside the chariot as the horses folded their wings along their backs.

  “Welcome to Dragon Central,” he said to Ian as his father stepped out of the chariot. “It’s not actually called that, of course, but I can barely pronounce the Korean name.”

  “Wow,” Ian said, looking around, an expression of wonder on his face that Tim was sure mirrored his own initial reaction to the valley. “I’m surprised you ever came home, after spending time here.”

  “It’s pretty great, but it’s old-school,” Tim said. “Hardly anyone even close to my age, and no cell coverage. Or internet.” He shrugged.

  “And you’re sure it’s okay for me to be here?”

  “Yeah. I got permission.”

  “Okay.” He ran his fingers through his wind-blown hair, straightening it. “I look all right? It’s been years since I saw her… Maybe this isn’t such a good idea—”

  “It’s a good idea.”

  Ian took a deep breath, “Right. Lead the way.”

  They walked slowly along the shore of the lake, pebbles crunching under their feet. “So,” Ian said conversationally, “when are you going to ask Maddie out?”

  “What?”

  “She seems like a nice girl, once you get used to the snakes.”

  “Well…, yeah.”

  “So when are you going to ask—” Ian broke off, and came to a sudden stop, staring directly ahead of them, to where Min Sook had stepped out of the shadow of the trees.

  “She looks just the same,” Ian breathed.

  “Go on, Dad,” Tim said, giving his father a gentle nudge.

  Ian looked at his son. “Thank you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

  Tim nodded, watching as his father walked toward Min Sook, his steps slow at first, like he was sleepwalking, then gaining confidence. As Ian closed the distance between them, Min Sook began to move forward, until they stood face-to-face, barely an arm’s length apart.

  Tim couldn’t hear what they said to each other, and didn’t realize he was holding his breath until Ian held out his hand and Min Sook took it and all the air came out of his lungs in a rush of relief.

  A footstep crunched on the pebbles near him, and he looked over to see Maddie standing next to him, her snakes hanging to her shoulders in relaxed coils.

  “So are they getting back together?” she asked, gesturing at Ian and Min Sook who were walking together, hand in hand, farther along the shore.

  “My parents? Who knows?

  Maddie nodded. “It’s pretty here. Thought I’d stick around a little while, if that’s okay.”

  “That would be great.”

  “I unhitched the Pegasi,” she said. “Told them not to wander off if they didn’t want to get eaten.”

  “Good idea. Though I’m sure they’re safe. Guest privileges or something like that.”

  “Right.”

  They stood there for a moment in awkward silence, which they both broke at the same time.

  “I guess I’ll just have a look around,” Maddie said.

  “I was wondering…” Tim began. The majority of Maddie’s snakes were looking at him. His mouth suddenly felt very dry.

  “Yes?” Now Maddie was looking at him, too. What had he said to Ian? Something stupid about biting the bullet? Time to take his own advice.

  “Would you like to go out sometime? See a movie or something?”

  She smiled, and it was like a ray of sunshine broke over the shaded valley. “It’s about time you asked,” she said.

  “What?”

  “Well, Ms. Fisher is getting tired of me being late to seventh period gym class every day,” she said, “and I can’t very well tell her I’ve been taking the long way around just to walk past your locker while you’re there, hoping you’d notice me. Do you realize we aren’t ever actually in the same part of the building all day? It’s downright aggravating.”

  “So you’ll go?”

  Maddie laughed, the silvery sound echoing back off the nearby hills. “Of course I’ll go. Snakes and a dragon. It’ll be fun.”

  The tattoo on Tim’s wrist moved, and when he glanced down at it, he was almost sure it was laughing.

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  Jamie Aldis has written dozens of short stories, numerous novels, as well as several collections. She lives in the arid Sonoran Desert, where inspiration and solar rays comes in equal measure. For more information about her new and upcoming publications, visit jamiealdis.com

  About this story, Jamie says: “How does a nature-loving, magical race that no one has ever seen, survive in a world that is rapidly losing its natural spaces? How does a young girl growing up faster than even she realizes learn to navigate a world that is different from the one her parents knew? How does a magical species adapt and survive through the generations? These are the questions that inspired this story. That, and an itch I just couldn’t quite scratch.”

  We typically meet dragons when they’re already old and wise, and seldom encounter them like Esme, in their younger, vulnerable – and sometimes itchy – state.

  Green Camouflage

  Jamie Aldis

  Esme snuck past her sleeping mother, wings tucked close to her body, timing her footsteps to the gentle snoring rhythm so as not to wake her. If she got caught trying to sneak out, she’d be grounded for years, and she was already going stir crazy because her overprotective mother kept her cave-bound so much.

  The forest outside called to her, and she certainly was not allowed to play out there on her own. The trees were fascinating in their evergreen heights. Esme slipped out the front of the cave, hopping down the mountain as quietly as she could hoping she would not crush a branch or make any noise that might give her away.

  She finally hit the tree line, and breathed a sigh of relief. Without any noise to disturb her, her mother would sleep soundly until dawn, which gave Esme a good couple hours to explore the fascinating forest.

  The trees were endlessly interesting, as was the way the cool light of the moon played through the branches. She bet the sun’s light was equally beautiful, but her mother would not allow her to be out in daylight yet.

  Not to mention, the thick underbrush, with its scratchy brambles and bushes were the best for rolling in. Her skin itched so fiercely, she thought she would go crazy.

  Don’t scratch, her mother said constantly, as if she simply could not remember what it felt like to molt. Esme tried to listen to her mother. She tried. So she did not scratch at her molting skin herself. No. She rolled around in the brambles and let the ever so satisfying crunch of the twigs and branches soothe her crusty, flaking skin.

  It felt so good. When she wasn’t out here, she thought she would go crazy from the itching that she wasn’t allowed to scratch.

  She carefully kept her hard, sharp claws and teeth away from her forming scales. No blemishes, her mother warned over and over. If she scratched she might cause
permanent damage to the nascent scales beneath. She’d never be allowed out of the house if her scales didn’t form properly. But surely those little twigs and branches weren’t able to cause damage.

  Especially since they felt so good.

  Her mother looked her over carefully every morning, making sure she was growing properly. Surely if rolling in the branches was a problem, mother would have spotted it already.

  Though Esme was growing concerned that her mother was starting to wonder where the old, molting skin was ending up each night. Fortunately, she had never asked. Esme had tried, but it was just too hard to try to pick out the dried, flaky bits from where they had fallen amid the crushed brambles.

  Esme found a good thick patch of undergrowth beneath some towering pine trees. Perfect. She was still several feet out, so she stopped a few times, then took a quick pee to scare away any critters living in the undergrowth. She’d noticed that often the noise of her approach wasn’t enough, but the smell of her pee usually cleared a place out pretty quick.

  The sudden rustle of alarmed creatures made Esme smile. She had accidentally crushed a terrified rabbit her very first dive into one of these bramble piles, and she certainly did not want to hurt any more creatures, no matter how small.

  Certain of her safety and theirs, Esme loped the last few feet toward the bramble pile and dove into it with gleeful abandon. The noise of cracking branches echoed, sounding much like a tree crashing to the ground.

  She unfurled her still very small wings and wiggled until the branches got right into those hard to reach spots under her wings.

  Oh, that felt so very good. She sighed happily and wiggled deeper and deeper into the underbrush.

  “Are you hurt?” asked a voice. A human voice.

  Esme froze, her heart pounding in terror.

  A human? When had humans come this deep into her woods? Her mother had been so careful to make their home far from the murderous creatures in order to raise Esme in as safe a place as could be found.