XX
1973 Words
XX
Dark crashed through the glass ceiling of the factory and he shrugged the glass off as he rose into the clouds.
His wings gave him more resistance than he expected. Their weakness reminded him when he was a young dragon learning to fly for the first time. Not impossible, but difficult.
But still he ascended and flapped as hard as he could until the factory was a black square under him.
Below, the city sparkled in the night sky. If he hadn’t seen it on television, it would have scared him to see such a place, with its endless parallel lines that looked like a jumble of jeweled necklaces glowing on the landscape. The lights had a coolness he had never seen before, like starlight. But it was not starlight, for the stars gleamed above.
The wind blew from the north and he flapped once more, letting his body drift on the wind.
A cloud lay in his path and he cruised through it, feeling a sudden shiver as he emerged on the other side. Semi-formed ice crystals stuck to his scales, but he flapped his wings and went into a barrel roll, shaking them off.
He was far away from the factory when he realized—where was he going to go?
The city swirled impossibly into the horizon. In the shadows of the night he couldn’t be sure of his location.
Miri had never told him where he was. From the flatness of the ground, it looked like the western continent. The brisk humidity felt about right for a night like this.
The fact that he couldn’t see any mountains in the distance confirmed his suspicions that he might have been on the western continent. To the west, a massive ocean lapped at the shore, and he could not discern the color of the water.
If it were the western continent, he would have expected the waters to be gray, with a cool breeze. The eastern continent would have been surrounded by emerald waters and immaculate volcanic sands.
But he didn’t know where he was, and under the cover of night, all he could do was hide. The land was certainly flat enough, but it didn’t have the same features he remembered. If he were truly in the future, then Crafters might have shaped the land since his reign, changing the makeup of the landscape.
In other words, he could not trust his eyes.
When daylight hit, he might be able to fly again and survey the landscape more. He hated this place and wished for the plainer, less populous landscape of his reign. He preferred his dominion in shadows, with just enough light to be worshipped in.
A whirring sound filled the air, quiet at first, like a distant insect. Then it grew louder.
Dark looked around.
The navy sky was empty except for a wave of clouds billowing over him.
The whirring grew louder, like a large drone of locusts.
Locusts.
Dark had dealt with locusts. He had burned clouds of them out of the sky to prevent disease. They appeared from time to time and they were an easy problem.
Yes, if these were locusts he would be ready for them. He would give them a burning like the world had never seen. He would burn them out of the sky and let their charred husks fall to the earth for humans and elves to feast on. And they would worship him!
No, they would not worship him, for his subjects were dead.
He breathed smoke from his nostrils, tasted it on his lips.
He was ready for them. He was going to destroy those locusts.
He passed through another cloud.
When he emerged on the other end he saw a barrage of blinking lights.
A huge metal vessel hurtled through the sky at him. It moved faster than the speed of a dragon with wings that didn’t flap, and its metal body shone in the moonlight.
It was no locust.
It was no bird.
Whatever it was, it was heading straight for him and it wasn’t going to move.
On the front of the creature, in the place of eyes, were three windows that reminded Dark of a fly’s eyes.
He squinted as he neared, and he saw what looked like elves.…
Elves?
They sat inside the creature with their mouths wide open. They had fearful faces that quickly turned into anger. They swatted the air with their hands, and from their mouths, it looked like they were screaming.
Dark’s eyes widened and he turned out of the creature’s way just in time.
Whack!
One of the metal wings grazed Dark. Pain erupted in his shoulder.
It was burning. Smoke rose from his scales.
He yelled, patted himself and brushed the smoke away.
“Damn you!” he cried.
The creature spiraled through the sky in a nose dive. But it corrected itself and continued on its trajectory, flying in a straight line.
What kind of creature was that?
His pain distracted him from the thought. The impact had weakened his wings and the urge to rest waved over him.
His left wing throbbed like a pulled muscle, and every flap sent blasts of excruciating pain through him.
He couldn’t rest.
He was miles above ground.
“Come on, old dragon,” Dark told himself. “Keep on flying.”
But his left wing was beginning to fail.
He had pushed himself too hard.
Gritting his teeth, he let the wind carry him downward, flapping as little as he could until the city lights flew up to meet him in all their topaz-like glory.
He had to land.
He had to rest.
He slowed his descent. The silhouettes of the buildings carved themselves out of the darkness, each one a universe of lights.
Another whirring sound filled the air and his heart skipped a beat.
This one was tinnier, like a giant hornet.
He saw it in the sky—a lone black shape flying in a lilting way, with a single wing over its head that looked like whirling swords. It was smaller than the creature he saw earlier, with a purple stripe along its body.
They were going to cross paths.
Dark roared as loud as he could, and the black figure swerved to the side, its bladed wings narrowly missing Dark’s face.
Still he descended further, and now the buildings sprung up around him, and he weaved between two tall ones, noticing his reflection on them. They were made of glass and looked hopelessly cold.
As he fanned over the city, he looked for a place to land. He needed a place of refuge.
He flew along the parallel lines that divided the city and noticed that there were smaller lights inside them, and the lights were moving in both directions. Were they the cars that he had seen in the news broadcasts?
He thought so.
He had to remind himself that this city was bustling with humans and elves; that every square inch of it was populated.
And then he saw it: a large grassy square amidst all the lights. There were some lights here and there, but it was a dark jewel in the night, with patches of water throughout.
Surely this must be a quiet place where he could rest!
He steered toward it and passed another glass building. As he rounded it, something roared at him.
It was a dragon.
A Keeper. Its scales were blood red and it flapped its wings quickly to maneuver around Dark. She was young—not more than one thousand years old.
“Share the skies!” the dragon snapped.
He had longed to see another dragon, and yet she was baring her teeth at him.
“I didn’t see you,” Dark said.
The dragon continued her flight over the city. Her voice trailed away as she said, “Old dragons like you should never be let off the ground.”
He boiled at the remark. “Do you know who I am, girl?!”
But the dragon was gone.
Dark growled. She was obviously a misguided youth.
That would end soon.
The grassy patch was closer now. He pushed his head down and tucked his wings closer in to prepare for landing.
The air whipped at his face, but he ignored it, ready to rest.
There were trees among the patch.
He’d curl up under a clump of trees and he would sleep undisturbed. He’d drink the wild water and relish it on his tongue as he slept under an open sky for the first time in a thousand years.
The ground filled in with subtle textures he couldn’t see from above.
Wooden benches. Rocky, gray serpentine paths. People walking dogs on ropes. Lanterns on long, skinny iron posts.
Maybe not as quiet as he hoped.
He needed subterfuge. Though if humans, elves and dragons truly were living together then his presence might be unremarkable.
He swiped the air with a claw. His scales changed color from black to gray.
A temporary disguise.
It would last for a few hours, long enough for him to rest.
He readied himself for landing.
SNAP!
A shock rippled through his scales.
Sparks burst around him like lightning struck him.
He tried to flap his wings but they were bound to his body.
He was covered in metal ropes, and the ropes were connected to wooden poles that were planted in the ground. He was pulling them out of the ground as he flew.
In a flash, all the lights in the immediate vicinity blinked out.
He lost sight of the park, pushed the metal wires off himself but he lost his momentum and fell out of the sky.
He struck a hard surface, rolling several times.
All over, the wooden poles landed around him like felled trees.
He staggered up, steadying himself.
Behind him, the city was dark.
Ahead, a tall television played. It was almost as tall as the building that housed it, and it was so bright Dark had to look away at first until his eyes adjusted.
The grassy area was behind him. He needed to get back there.
He turned to walk away as the television spoke.
“A Magic Hope City treasure! From the daughters of acclaimed dragon historian Moss comes a piece of art that will move your soul.”
Dark stopped. Had the television said Moss’s name?
He watched as two young, slender Crafter dragons twirled on a stage in what looked like the largest amphitheater he had ever seen. The dragons sang as multi-colored lights bore down on them, and a crowd of people waved their hands in the air.
The dragons…
They were gray, like Moss.
They even had his same facial features—jowled faces, red eyes, and long, bristling manes. They had sweet, mellifluous voices and sang lyrics that Dark did not understand. The rhythm of the words grated against his ears, and the stresses were in the wrong places—they were unlike the metered rhythm of traditional dragon song.
The red dragons wrapped around each other and twisted their heads graciously as the audience threw flowers at them.
“Meah and Mynthia, Live at The Cistern!”
Dark stared at the screen, his mouth agape. Could those young dragons have truly been Moss’s children?
Lights washed across his body, and then a loud screeching sound.
A truck barreled toward him and tried to brake.
Dark yelled and ran off the road, dragging the metal wires and wooden poles behind him like an extended tail.
The truck rolled over, spilling scrap metal over the road.
Dark ripped the metal wires off of his body and dashed into the shadows behind him.
He crashed through several trees, and he tumbled face-first into a pool of water.
Suddenly he was underwater with murky depths rolling around him. He could only see bubbles rising from his mouth.
He pedaled and broke through the surface.
He was inside a large pond. Several elves were gathered around, staring at him suspiciously.
Upon seeing them, he flapped his wings and lifted himself out of the water.
He couldn’t stay here now.
They were too suspicious.
Pain seared through his wing as he rose above the rooftops, looking around frantically. He flew again, his wings barely keeping him in the air.
His heart raced. His scales ached. The pain in his eye socket returned, burning like a small sun.
He spied a nearby high-rise with vegetation on the roof. No one was on it.
He touched down on it and landed on soft, moist grass. Panting, he lay his head down, felt the grass’s dampness against his face.
He slept.
- Writer
