by Paul Cude
"Good evening... Tim, is it?" whispered a soft, soothing, reassuring voice.
Trying to turn his head in the direction of the sound, he failed miserably, just like all his previous attempts.
"Ahhh... of course, you can't move. Let me come over to you."
Right at the bottom of his vision a smiling face swam into view, nothing like he'd expected. Tim was glad that someone was here finally, someone to answer all his questions, though this guy looked nothing like any sort of doctor he could ever remember seeing, apart from the smile of course. They nearly all had that. For a start, there was the hair. Long, straggly, grey hair, down past his shoulders. Unkempt was the most fitting way he could think to describe it, and his clothes weren't much better, looking very much like they'd been slept in for days on end. The matching grey stubble etched across nearly every part of his lower face did nothing to ease Tim's very real concerns.
"It's nice to finally meet you son," uttered the figure hovering over Tim.
"You too," Tim felt compelled to say, feeling completely and utterly helpless and out of control, having hoped the anger at being trapped here for so long without any answers would have fired him up enough to demand to know exactly what was going on. But it wasn't the case. His life was most certainly in their hands, and he felt this now more than ever.
"You've been through a lot son. Can you tell me what you remember?"
"Very little in fact," replied Tim honestly. "I recall being somewhere... somewhere I shouldn't have been. But I can't for the life of me remember where. And then it went dark, and then... NOTHING! Sorry I can't be more help than that."
"That's alright," answered the... KING! For that's who was standing over Tim right at this very moment, here at the earliest available opportunity, given everything that had happened across not only the dragon domain, but planet wide. Knowing he should have got here sooner and not just demand the staff continue to sedate Tim until he got there, of all the options, it just seemed like the easiest thing to do. As well, a part of him was secretly terrified of dealing with anything to do with the prophecy. Having always known it was a possibility, what ruling monarch didn't, he'd never truly believed the fabled white dragon would turn up on his watch, and certainly not under these circumstances, here and now, during all this.
"I'm sure, son, you have plenty of questions about what's been going on and how it is we're going to treat you?"
"Uh huh," he mumbled, trying to nod his head, but of course being unable to.
"What I'm going to do, is get them to remove the restraint stopping your neck from moving. Is that okay?"
"Yes," Tim remarked enthusiastically. "Is it possible to take all of this scaffolding away?"
"That, my young friend, is known as M.U.C.U.S. and is rather important at the moment."
Tim tried to smile, but it turned into more of a grimace than anything else. Hoping desperately that Tim wouldn't ask him what M.U.C.U.S. stood for, the king knew that it would only raise more questions that he didn't want to answer. M.U.C.U.S. actually stands for Mantra Universal Containment Unit Subjugator, and was currently keeping Tim's head in human form, because the rest of him, which he couldn't feel or see, was residing in a perfectly pure white dragon shape.
"Before I go on though, there are some things I need to tell you," announced the king. "I know that you've been bracing yourself for bad news regarding your condition. I know, because that's exactly what I would be doing in your place. On that front, you should know that there's good news and... interesting news. Note I didn't say bad news."
Tim just smiled at the monarch nervously. The king continued.
"What I need for you to do, is take me at my word, and try your hardest to remain as calm as is humanly (a poor choice of words in the situation) possible. Do you think you can do that for me?"
Gulping and swallowing almost at the same time, Tim just about managed to get out a squeaky, "Yes."
"Good man," quipped the king. "Remove the M.U.C.U.S.," he ordered.
Two nurses appeared on either side of Tim's head and began fiddling about with the brace-like structure encompassing his neck and skull. All the time the grey haired figure hovered in view, a comforting smile imprinted on his face.
Moments later, the nurses retreated, nodding in the king's direction as they did so. Holding his breath, knowing that the next few moments could prove to be some of the most momentous ever in the dragon kingdom, and had been foretold thousands of years ago, the king watched closely, waiting to see what would happen.
As the nurses retreated, Tim carefully tried to move his neck. Stiff didn't begin to cover it, but after a few seconds he was at least able to roll his head and shrug his shoulders. Just as he was about to sit up and inspect the rest of his body, the most peculiar feeling started to attack him right behind his eyes. Instantly his vision blurred. Thinking that something had got into his eyes, he blinked furiously. If only it were that simple.
You see, when Richie broke her 'alea', using it in conjunction with the simple shield mantra to save them from the explosion and the collapsing building, the magical properties of the mantra and the laminium in the bomb combined to produce an even more unpredictable side effect. It forced Richie's DNA to lock itself into a perfect human form, in a very different way to say that of Flash, and in doing so, her dragon abilities, magic, DNA, call it what you will, all overwhelmed Tim, turning him into a dragon. At first, the change wasn't apparent. On recovering his body from the blast crater, it fully resembled a human, in every single aspect. It was only once it was taken to the secluded part of Salisbridge District hospital, the area deep below ground reserved only for the worst dragon cases, that the changes to his physiology became apparent. It was a shock to each and every one of the dragon staff there, because they'd known him to be a human... he'd been checked out before arriving. And the surprises didn't stop there. His transformation wasn't like a normal dragon's transition between forms. For Tim, it was one body part at a time, over a much longer period. Whereas most dragons only take a matter of moments to change forms, Tim's body parts required minutes or even hours in some cases, for the full effect to become permanent. With his left arm changing first, and then the right wing springing out almost as if from nowhere, the staff had little idea of what they were dealing with, or what exactly they should do. Only once his stomach and back had converted, did they realise that they were likely dealing with an all white dragon, and given the prophecy about such a beast, the one prophecy all dragons adhere to above all others, the king had been immediately informed.
Iron being beaten into submission on an anvil, that's what the pain behind his eyes felt like. All thoughts of sitting up or moving at all were washed away when the excruciating pain rippled through his jaw. Wanting to scream, yell or shout for all he was worth, just the very thought of moving any part of his mouth even a millimetre was enough to dissuade him. With his vision barely there at all thanks to the pain behind his eyes, he wished he could move his arms, really to check what he knew couldn't be true. It just couldn't. Because it felt as if not only were his teeth actually growing, but that his entire face and jaw had got... BIGGER! Making to swallow, he found that his tongue, something he'd never had any problems with before, had never even noticed in fact, was lopping about inside his mouth, flailing around like a blind anaconda searching for a mate. It felt as though it were that size as well. Just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, with the pain at its most horrific, a sensation tickled deep down within his face.
'Oh no,' he thought to no one but himself. Trying to push it away, having done so on previous occasions, it was no good with the pain and the unfamiliar sensations breaching all of his defences. Lacking both the concentration and willpower required, the sensation snowballed out of control, growing with each moment that passed, until inevitably it happened.
'Aitchooooooo!' he sneezed, oddly accompanied by a whooshing and wheezing sound, as well as a burning feeling all around his mouth and nose.
He wasn't king for nothing, and had seen it coming... well, only just. Flinging himself off to one side, the streak of blue and orange flame shot past where he'd been standing, bouncing off a metallic bedpan, smashing into one of the glass panels that made up three quarters of the room. An ugly, smouldering, brown mark was now splattered against the specially toughened glass, just where the flame had struck.
With the pain starting to recede, Tim's vision started to clear, showing the elderly man still smiling at him, albeit off to one side of where he'd previously stood. Feeling odd, his face seemed... longer! No, not longer... bigger, heavier, more difficult to balance. It was weird. With his lolloping tongue dangling out of his mouth, the need to look down at his body became more pressing than ever. Sitting up, he arched his very heavy head forward, concerned that he might not have the strength to bring it back up again, and gazed down at the rest of his body. It didn't register at first, figuring he must still be asleep... dreaming! But of course he wasn't, he was wide awake, gawping down at a huge, bright, white scaled belly that rose up and down in time with his own breathing, two perfectly folded wings, and razor sharp talons on the end of scraggy looking feet which spread out from beneath the most powerful set of legs he'd ever set eyes on. Flimsy looking arms lay neatly pointed towards the bottom of the bed. It was the most bizarre out of body experience any being on the planet had ever had... only it wasn't! It was him... his mind, in the body of a dragon. Yet it was real. As real as it gets.
"To be honest, I expected a little more... panic!" remarked the king.
"It's not real," answered Tim, wiggling his strange and protruding jaws from side to side. Sucking his lips together, the king rubbed his stubbly chin.
"I'm afraid it is."
Tim just sat there, gazing across at the dragon ruler, all the while taking in the prehistoric body laid out before him.
"Would you allow me to explain?" asked the king.
"If you can explain all of THIS," said Tim, "then you're a better man than I am, which at the moment... wouldn't be difficult at all."
Smiling at the thought of sharing a joke with the 'white dragon', he thought it a good omen, and a glimpse into a calm, thoughtful and strong personality.
'And by God is he going to need that,' mused the monarch.
"While I appreciate you trying to describe me as a better 'man' than yourself, the truth of the matter is much more complicated than that. You see, I too am a dragon. In fact, I'm the king of the dragons, in charge of just about everything there is."
Automatically, Tim's giant scaly jaws started to open, but he managed to stifle the laugh that threatened to come out. Something about the individual before him commanded respect and authority. Instinctively he'd already recognised it, and despite the fear, terror, panic, and questions numbering in their hundreds, currently running through his newly shaped head, he was now paying absolute attention to this very unusual individual.
"So will you let me explain? I warn you now, it's going to take some time, and quite a lot of what you will hear will be beyond your wildest imagination. But given where you are, and what's happened to you, this is as important for you as it is for me. What do you say?"
Fighting for control of his immense head, Tim came to the only logical conclusion... to listen. He was in no condition to do anything else, particularly given he had no idea where he was, or who, or what else inhabited the building that he was currently receiving care in. If nothing else, he supposed that it might just fill in some of the missing gaps in his memory. Nodding his agreement, the king perched on the bottom of the very large bed and started from the beginning.
They sat and talked for hours... many hours. I say talked, Tim had of course mainly listened. To his credit, the king had let the newly discovered 'white dragon' interrupt whenever he felt the need to know something so obvious to the monarch that he wouldn't have thought to explain it to a dragon who'd only been one for a matter of days. To say it had blown Tim's mind was an understatement. But as he'd hoped, it had at least cleared up some of his missing memory. Sitting on the bed, feeling more than a little sorry for himself, his thoughts drifted off to the woman he loved... Richie! A smile crept across his face, in a much different way than he was used to. Before it could have been used to charm the wits off any woman, but now... it would probably terrify most of the human population. In anticipation of the food he'd been promised, his stomach gurgled ever so slightly. Normally a chicken and fish kind of guy, when they'd asked what he'd like to eat, just after the king left, he instantly told them he wanted rare steak and well cooked bacon. Oh how things had changed.
As the delightful aroma of the bacon, done to a turn, filtered through his super sensitive nose, wafting across from somewhere else in the building, he once again thought about the superstar lacrosse player, wondering just how she was adapting to her change in bodily circumstances. Although hers was a change as dramatic as his, the shock and realisation would be vastly different. On reflection, he should have realised she was something different, something special. Of course, he had thought of her as something unique, but would never have had her down as another species. All the bravado, showing off, taking on men twice her size and beating them at goodness knows what... It was all so obvious now, with hindsight and his new knowledge about dragons. A small part of him wondered why she hadn't visited. The king had said she'd been forbidden to do so, but that wouldn't stop the Richie he knew. Quite the opposite in fact. It would have spurred her on, wanting to put one over on authority, as she had so many times before. But had the reversion to a fully fledged human being changed her, or was it something else? Perhaps, like him, she had gaps in her memory too, and was even now unable to remember their time together. Feeling as though his heart was being squeezed, he hoped not. Just as he turned this over in his mind, a tall, rather attractive, red haired woman who he now knew to be a dragon, slipped through the door, carrying a gigantic tray with a cover on the top. It was so big and wide that her slender arms struggled to contain it as she headed his way. Once again he smiled, at least he hoped that's what he was doing, supposing there was every chance he was doing something else, what with all this being so new to him. Perhaps at some point he'd have to ask for a mirror, not only to see the new him, but also to practise getting his brand new face to work properly.
With a friendly, "There you go," the nurse plonked the tray down on his lap... well, more like his belly actually, before lifting off the lid. Watching her leave the room, he felt a brief pang of disappointment. Part of him wanted a conversation, in the hope that perhaps she could answer some of the many questions he had, or show him just the smallest hint of kindness. But she was gone, so he glanced down at the tray and his eyes nearly popped out. It looked as though the entire dragon kingdom's supply of bacon and steak had found its way onto a plate the size of a sofa. Starting to count the rashers, he stopped when he reached fifty, realising that he'd not even got halfway. There must have been over thirty of the finest steaks, not just any old things either, T-bones if he wasn't mistaken. And someone had taken the liberty of adding some fried eggs, at least three dozen by the look of things.
'It does look appealing,' he thought, pleased that someone had added the eggs, the human in him really appreciating the gesture.
'But hang on,' a sudden thought occurred to him, 'they've only gone and forgotten all the cutlery. How on earth am I supposed to eat all of this?' And then he remembered. He was a dragon, and cutlery was no longer an option. Chuckling came from nowhere, tears winding their way across the new landscape of his prehistoric face, with much further to travel now than before. Indiscriminate guffaws of laughter pierced the wolfing down of bacon rashers for the next thirty minutes or so.
4 A Touching Moment
Waiting for everything to come to fruition drove him mad. Constantly having to move about, avoiding built up areas, swapping cars, dodging CCTV cameras even at service stations... the monotony was just staggering, though part of him knew it would be worth it in the end.
Opening the fridge, he grabbed a beef salad sandwich sealed in a plastic carton, something they'd picked up the day before at a remote service station, his stomach turning at the thought of eating the ropey looking snack. It had most certainly seen better days, but there was little else. So, unwrapping it, he discarded the plastic on the floor and, walking through to the living area, sandwich in one hand, cane in the other, took a bite. Moments later, he wished he'd thrown away the sandwich and taken a bite of the plastic, sure it would have tasted better. Striding down the steps that led into the lounge, he glanced across at the television that his father was watching with the sound turned down. Some news channel was still harping on about the destruction caused by the laminium bombs. His laminium bombs. That made him smile. Slowly, he eased down into the plump arm chair opposite his father, the legendary dragon incarcerated for so many years for his crimes against the entire underground population, all those years ago... TROYDENN!
The wizened old man glared across at him. At the moment, there was little love lost between the two of them. Both loving and despising his father in equal measures, he loved him because he'd shown him his true potential, nurtured his new found abilities and, in the end, granted him the power to become the new super dragon that he was, eclipsing his father in ways the old dragon could only dream of. But he also hated him because of how he'd treated his mother. Of course he couldn't actually remember, but he'd been told what had happened, deep down in that frozen hellhole of an icy dungeon where the rogue dragons had been left to die, and where he'd been both conceived and born. How she was used and abused by everyone, including him. No respect, no rights, no say in anything because she was female, one of just a handful. She'd meant nothing to his father, that much he did know, just an experimented on shell, used for one purpose and one purpose alone: to give birth the human way, to continue the bloodlines of the dragons trapped there. Such a simple idea, and one to which their dragon captors had given little thought, because if they had, then they most certainly wouldn't have been imprisoned. To think, all it took was the tiniest sliver of power to turn their DNA fully human, and that was it. Reproduce the human way, and then just wait for the opportunity for freedom to come along, which of course it had, in the form of the very trusting and very gullible nagas. An added bonus to the whole thing presented itself in the guise of the very different powers those born there had been granted, as well as the fact that normal dragons (if there's even such a thing) are unable to detect even the tiniest hint of anything even remotely not human. All in all, like a phoenix rising from the ashes, some good had come from the forced captivity. And with these new found powers, the opportunity to change the fate of the world still very much existed.
