To Fashion a Dragon

by Gary J Darby

  Vay then turned to her table and carefully lifted an orb. She brought the sphere to her face and gazed within.

  It was the tiniest of lights, but its golden brilliance had such power that it not only lit up the room, but its radiance seeped throughout the castle and burst through the windows to light up the landscape outside.

  “I hold a nascent star in my hand,” Vay murmured, “and its power shall be my dragon’s power, and none will be able to withstand either of us. I shall have my world, and when I do—” She threw back her head and laughed, her laughter echoing off the walls and filling the empty halls of her castle.

  She held the orb up and it slowly floated from her hand to hover in midair over the steaming cauldron. Vay took out the small vial with its one drop of blessed elixir and added the liquid to her brew.

  Vay didn’t actually know if Zule’s blessing on the liquid made any difference or not, but she wasn’t going to chance using the stolen non-blessed elixir.

  With her scepter in one hand, she raised both hands high, her eyes wide in a wild state of anticipation. Raising her voice to a rolling thunder, she called out,

  Power of starlight, power to me,

  To dragon of mine, ever supreme

  Scales of golden, talons of steel

  Unto you, all dragons will kneel

  Fangs of strength, wings of might

  None shall stand in battle or fight

  Power of starlight, power to me,

  Come my dragon, ever supreme!

  With that, she slammed her scepter down to the brew. The orb flew into the boiling mixture and as it hit, there was an enormous explosion. The concoction flew high into the air and began spinning, faster and faster.

  Vay watched in glee as her brew spun itself into an enormous, glowing, golden sphere. It hung there for several moments before it slowed and began to settle to the cold, stone floor. As it did, it started to shape itself into an enormous dragon.

  Vay slipped to one side of the cauldron to stare, her eyes ablaze with expectation, one hand grasping her scepter while her other was clenched tight in a fist.

  The form grew larger, talons and a tail appeared, then the thick body and wings. A head rose at the end of a stocky neck, and four horns curved partway over its skull. Eyes, a mouth and fangs next appeared to complete the dragon.

  It lay on the floor as if asleep. Then, its head jerked up and it sucked in a raspy breath. Once, twice it drew in air before its golden eyes popped open and the creature struggled to its feet.

  With a broad smile, Vay hurried across the room to stand in front of the dragon. “Do you know who I am?” Vay asked.

  The dragon lowered its head, blinked its eyes several times. “Yes, mistress,” she answered. “You are my creator.”

  “That’s right,” Vay nodded. “And to you, what does that mean?”

  “That I am to obey you.”

  Vay bit down on her lip as she hissed, “The perfect answer.”

  She raised a hand up to the dragon’s muzzle, but her hand had barely touched the beast’s scales when Vay sucked in a breath and moved in closer. “Wha—” she began as her hand rested on her dragon’s scales.

  “They are not purely golden . . .” she murmured, pressing her face close to the dragon’s skin plates. Her eyes narrowed, and she sucked in a breath. “Each scale is faintly rimmed with a different color!”

  Vay stepped back, threw her hands up and screamed, her shriek booming through the castle. “She is not perfect!”

  The dragon, at Vay’s scream, backed up a few steps, its eyes showing confusion. “Mistress, is there something wrong?”

  “Wrong!” Vay snapped. “You are what’s wrong. Your scales—they’re imperfect!”

  The golden lifted a leg, stared at the scales. “Why are they imperfect, mistress?” she asked in a small voice. “I rather like them.”

  Vay flipped a dismissive hand at her. “You wouldn’t understand.” With that, she stalked down the length of the dragon, muttering, “Talons, sharper than wolves, tail, suitable length with twin spikes.”

  She pressed a finger to one of the spikes and immediately drew it back with a jerk. “Suitably sharp, too.”

  Stomping back, she stopped and commanded, “Unfurl your wings!”

  The golden spread her leather like limbs which were gilded and shown brightly. Vay stared at the wings, nodded and growled, “Appropriately wide and long.”

  She stalked back to the front and ordered, “Open your mouth.”

  The golden dutifully opened its mouth. Vay examined her fangs. “Sharper than the finest honed blade,” she noted and then sniffed. “Sulfur? Of course, dragon breath.”

  She stepped to one side and with her scepter pointed out a window. “Dragon fire!”

  The dragon reared back slightly and then unleashed its flames. A stream of dragon fire spewed across the room splashed against the window and then shot outward across the bleak and forlorn landscape.

  “That’s enough!” Vay ordered and stood staring at her creation. She crossed her arms, resting her scepter in the crook of one arm. “Shall I keep you or try again?”

  She grimaced, remembering that she had used the last drop of the blessed elixir. What if the other liquid in the vase didn’t work as well with the power of a star? She could end up with an even less perfect dragon than she had already.

  “There is one final test,” she said to herself, “of whether I have the golden dragon I need or not.”

  With her scepter, she pointed to the window. “Go test those new wings of yours for a bit. I’ll call when I need you.”

  The golden swung her head and gazed at the window. “Mistress, the window is too small for me to fit through. Do you want me to smash through the wall? I may destroy one whole side of your castle.”

  Without looking, Vay swung her scepter around and from it a bolt of lightning erupted, smashing into the wall. When the smoke cleared, Vay jerked her head toward the wall and said, “It’s not too small now.”

  The golden trundled forward a few steps, unfurled her wings and sprang through the hole that was now more than sufficient for her wingspan.

  It didn’t take long for Vay to have a new brew boiling in the vat and it wasn’t long after, that a newly formed scarlet dragon stood in the room. After a quick inspection, Vay nodded. “A few scales missing, one talon short but a dragon in all other aspects.”

  She walked across the littered floor of broken stones and stood at the gaping hole. “Golden! Return!”

  Moments later came the thump-thump of dragon wings and the golden flew in through the window and settled to the floor. Vay stroked its neck scales for a moment before turning to her new creation. What she saw caused her eyes to go wide. “Perfect!” she hissed as she stared at the kneeling scarlet, whose head was bowed low to the golden.

  She walked over to the crimson and demanded, pointing at the golden, “Dragon, I am your creator but who is this?”

  “The one to whom all dragons kneel, the great golden dragon, supreme over all dragons, mistress.”

  Vay clapped her hands together in glee. “Better than perfect if such a thing were possible,” she chortled. Drawing in a deep breath of satisfaction, she turned and walked toward her cauldron. “And it will only get better.”

  Zule watched as Jupus and Osin strode from the Parthenon, waited until they were outside before he turned slightly to one side. “Well?”

  “She’s started, Sire,” the personage replied.

  “How long until she runs out of elixir?”

  “Less than a decade.”

  Zule’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “So soon?”

  “Her ambition and lust for power drive her incessantly, Sire. She has only this one thought on her mind, and—”

  “Without distractions,” Zule growled, “such as I have to endure constantly, she can move swiftly ahead.”

  “Indeed, Sire.”

  “And Merc?”

  “He is more cautious, but it is as we
suspected and feared, the lines are becoming clearer.”

  Zule growled low in his chest, his rumble sounding like an approaching storm. “Free agency has its rewards, but it also has pitfalls.”

  His fingers drummed on his throne’s golden armrests. “These are the times when I am almost tempted to end my subject’s ability to choose, to exercise their agency. Make choices and pay the consequences, good or bad.”

  He flicked his golden eyes toward his comrade. “But you of course would advise against such an action, yes?”

  “Yes, Sire. You know as well as I that this is the only way your subjects can grow, through learning and experiencing, painful though it may be at times. Besides,” he shrugged, “don’t you think it would be incredibly boring around here if you took away everyone’s agency?”

  Zule threw back his head and laughed, his laughter booming through the Parthenon. “The threat of boredom. What better reason to continue on as we have.”

  His laughter died to chortles and then to silence. “A decade, eh? Then I suppose we best get started, too.”

  “Already begun, Sire.”

  Zule smiled and pulled at his beard, his eyes distant and cold. “They think I’ve become old and doddering, unable to attend to the affairs of the cosmos.”

  He gripped a lightning bolt in a clenched fist. His hold became tighter and tighter until the thunderbolt shattered in an explosion of light and rolling thunder.

  “They shall soon learn otherwise and a painful, excruciating lesson it shall be.”

  The decade passed quickly, and the gods remained busy, fashioning hundreds of new creation worlds and thousands upon thousands of new creatures. Rumors spread that Zule was close to declaring the Age of Creation over for this cosmos.

  That meant, of course, that the gods would soon start selecting from the multitude of creatures to populate the various worlds. Most importantly, Zule would choose the beasts of the fields, the fowls of the air, and the fishes of the sea to go down to Erdron, the Center Point of the galaxy.

  It was a great honor to the god whose creation Zule chose for Erdron as it was the choicest creation realm of all the worlds. Moreover, it controlled the fate of the whole cosmos. For as Erdron went, so went the heavens.

  It was whispered, though no one knew for sure, that whomever controlled the Center Point world would rule over the entire cosmos after the gods departed to create another universe.

  Of course, that was just a whisper of a rumor.

  Vay flew out the window of her dark, dreary castle and flitted high to survey her domain. A smile spread across her face as she slowly turned and gazed downward. As far as the eye could see, dragons, of all sizes and rainbow colors, covered her tiny world, each peering up at her.

  She drew in a deep, satisfied breath. “Can I do magic or can I do magic?”

  With a little whirl, she turned and crooked a finger. From inside the castle came a rustling of wings. A moment later, the golden dragon shot through the immense hole in the castle’s wall, flew upward, until it floated just below Vay.

  Below, all the dragons bowed their heads to the golden as Vay slowly lowered herself into the golden’s neck saddle. Once settled, she motioned toward a small orange dragon who immediately zipped up to her and asked in its tiny, squeaky voice, “Yes, mistress?”

  “Find Merc,” she ordered, “tell him that all is ready. Meet me outside Fairyland.”

  “Yes, mistress,” the little dragon answered.

  “Go,” Vay waved him off and immediately the sprite was an orange blur streaking across the heavens.

  She raised her scepter high and called loud, “Dragons, follow me!”

  Bringing her arm down, she ordered, “Golden, to Fairyland!”

  “Yes, mistress,” the golden answered. The great beast unfurled its wings, caught the cosmic wind and followed by Vay’s vast dragon army, winged swiftly toward Fairyland.

  “Golden,” Vay called, “do you remember how to address my sisters?”

  “Yes, mistress, as noble ones.”

  “Yes, and do you recall what it is we are about?”

  “To rescue seven of our dragon brethren who mistakenly fight for foul gods.”

  “That’s right. And why do we have a dragon army?”

  “Because the vile sky lords who command our brethren are powerful and we must be more powerful than they.”

  “Very good.”

  The dragon army swept across the cosmos, their enormity so immense that when they passed in front of a star they dimmed its light. Once, their passing wake was so powerful that it swept a creation world outward where it crashed into another world, splintering them both so badly that they ended up being a massive ring of tumbling rocks that circled their star.

  After meeting with Merc, Vay had the golden fly into Fairyland and land on one of the fairy castle’s large jutting porticos. Vay quickly dismounted from the golden and rushed inside where she found her three sisters just as she left them—moping around, still saddened by the departure of their beloved dragons, which was precisely what Vay counted on in her plan.

  “Sisters!” Vay called out. “I bring terrible news from the Center of Everything!”

  “Oh, hello, Vay,” Osa responded with a half-hearted wave.

  “Nice to see you,” Eskar dully replied with a faint smile.

  “Were you gone?” Nadia asked. “Dear me, I guess I didn’t even notice but it’s nice to have you back. Where were you again?”

  “Did you not hear me?” Vay insisted. “A tragedy unfolds at the Center!”

  “Oh?” Osa replied.

  “A tragedy, you say?” Eskar asked.

  “That’s horrible,” Nadia nodded.

  “It’s about our dragons!” Vay shouted.

  As if they just woke from a deep sleep, the three fairies jerked their heads up.

  “Did you say our dragons?” Osa demanded.

  “What about our dragons?” Eskar said and rushed over to Vay.

  “Yes, Vay,” Nadia replied and joined Eskar in hurrying to surround Vay, “what about our dragons?”

  “There’s a revolt,” Vay rushed to say, “and our dragons were pulled into the middle of it, though they had nothing to do with the rebellion.”

  Before the three could ask a question, Vay held a hand up to stop them. “They’re on the wrong side! They’re attacking the defenders of Zule!”

  “What!?” Osa sputtered.

  “That’s not poss—” Eskar began but Vay interrupted her, saying, “I got it straight from Merc. He said Zule has sent for us. As the dragon’s creators we should be able to call to them, pull them over to the right side.”

  Vay’s face turned dark and in a hushed whisper, said, “If we can’t, Zule will have no choice but to destroy them and issue a decree that henceforth there shall be no more dragons!”

  “No!” Osa gasped.

  “Destroy them?” Eskar cried.

  “No more dragons?” Nadia sobbed with a hand to her mouth.

  “Yes, sisters,” Vay nodded, “I’m afraid so.”

  “Sisters!” Osa commanded. “We cannot tarry another moment, let us be off at once!”

  Vay turned, led her sisters to the double-doors that opened to the portico and pushed them aside.

  Osa stopped cold at the sight of the golden dragon while Eskar and Nadia almost tripped over their own feet while bumping up against Osa, their eyes fixed on the golden.

  “Vay, sister,” Osa gasped, “wha—”

  “Oh,” Vay demurely replied, “did I forget to mention where I’ve been this past little while?” She swept a hand toward the golden and then upward. The three followed her hand and stood transfixed at the sight of the vast swath of dragons that circled overhead.

  The encircling oval was so gigantic that it seemed to cover all of Fairyland. Below them, the pixies were running around, pointing upward, and squeaking so loud that it almost drowned out the dragon’s wing beats.

  “Seeing as how much we loved dragons,�
�� Vay said, “I decided that seven just wasn’t enough. So, I created more along with one very special dragon.”

  “But, how—” Osa sputtered.

  “No time for questions,” Vay interjected. “Remember, our friends are in trouble. They’re depending on us to save them.”

  She turned to the golden dragon. “Golden, these are my sisters, Osa, Eskar, and Nadia.”

  The golden bowed her head. “I am honored, noble ones.”

  Osa tittered and put a hand to her mouth. “Did you hear that? She called us ‘noble ones’.”

  “How beautiful she is,” Eskar commented.

  “And how polite,” Nadia noted.

  “Yes, well, we must go,” Vay insisted. “Call to one above if you wish to ride, I’ll be on the golden.”

  Osa hesitated and then cried out, “Sapphire!”

  A beautiful blue dragon, its scales sparkling with the azure tint of a summer day swooped down and settled on the portico. Osa quickly was up on her neck saddle and the two winged off.

  “Scarlet!” Eskar called and a magnificent crimson dragon, the color of a red-streaked sunset set down on the large porch. Eskar was upon his back in an instant and they too, winged away.

  “Emerald!” Nadia shouted and a wondrous green dragon, the color of sparkling grass after a springtime shower floated down to settle on the portico. Nadia was no sooner in its neck saddle when the beast unfurled its mighty wings and sped away.

  Vay watched them just for a moment, a sneer building on her face. “That’s right, fly my pretties and put your heads into a noose of your own making.”

  “Pardon, mistress?” the golden asked.

  “Nothing, golden, nothing at all.” Vay quickly settled herself in the golden’s neck saddle. “To the Center of Everything, but we want to let my sisters get there first as they should receive all the glory of rescuing our friends.”

  “As you wish, mistress.” The golden unfurled her beautiful, mighty wings and a moment later they were winging away from Fairyland with the dragon army right behind.

  The three sisters winged swiftly through the cosmos, their faces worried and anxious as to what they might find once they reached the Center of Everything.