The Crystal Dragon Series Collection

by Katie Cherry

  “Temporary ones,” I fearfully remind her, slipping off of the seat to stand with them.

  “Yes, yes, but it’ll help you see what having a real one is like. Now, come,” she cheers, waving for me to follow her as she heads to the other side of the store, stopping at a tall, rotating display case full of designs. “Pick out one you like,” she urges, pushing me closer to it.

  “Alright,” I laugh, her ecstatic mood rubbing off on me a little. I immediately start to get overwhelmed at the choices. “Uh… what would you recommend?”

  “Well, would you like to do what everyone is doing, or something a little more unique?”

  “Uh… unique, I guess. But also probably a small one,” I quickly amend as she reaches for a full-body one hanging on the wall. Chuckling, she goes back to the display case and removes a few smaller ones.

  “This one is the legendary water dragon,” she murmurs with reverence as she lays it on the counter facing me. It was gorgeous and really did look like a dragon, but with fins and a more fish-like tail. I liked it immediately, despite it being the biggest I’m willing to go. “This is the red-bearded bird only seen once a year, considered as a sign of good luck,” she continues, setting down a tattoo of a bird mid-flight. It had a red patch below its beak, lending to the name, I suppose, and black outstretched wings. Its beak was open in song. “And this is another legend.” She carefully sets a gorgeous golden lily beside the bird. “Said to grow somewhere in the ocean, near the Glowing Deep.”

  “Glowing Deep?” I question, curious.

  “I guess you haven’t heard about it in Keyon?” she chuckles, reclining back against the counter, her hands now empty. “The Glowing Deep is the part of the ocean that glows, but no one knows why. We think it might be because of a concentration of glowing fish, but it’s a dangerous area to venture into, so we may never know,” she winks.

  “What do you think about the tattoos, Crystal?” Hannah asks, leaning forward to look at them herself.

  “Well, I love them all,” I hesitantly reply. “But I think the dragon is my favorite.”

  “Wonderful choice!” Ariah beams, pushing herself off of the counter. “Although with how small these three are, honestly, I would recommend getting them all.”

  “All of them?…”

  “I have to agree with Ariah,” Hannah adds, giving me a meaningful look.

  Hesitating, I give in with a sigh. Good thing these are all temporary. “Alright.”

  “Amazing! Oh, I’m so excited!” Ariah quickly grabs all three tattoos, looking from them to me and back again. “I recommend the dragon on an ankle, perhaps… the bird on the inside of a wrist… and the flower… since it’s so small, perhaps the corner of one of your eyes?”

  Thinking for a moment, I finally shrug. “You’re the artist,” I finally decide.

  Grin growing wider, she leads me to the chair and gets to work.

  <<>>

  Nathan fidgets uncomfortably as Chester talks to the person running the shop. Crystal might think of it as fun to change so much of themselves, but he didn’t feel great about it. Hopefully, he’d be able to convince them both to minimize the ‘updates’ to his body. When they return, Chester introduces him to the man. He was pale and had a scale pattern covering most of his skin. Nathan wonders for a moment if it’s a popular thing and if they would make him do it as well.

  “Nathan, this is Tsilinko. He’s going to be your hair stylist for the day.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” he greets, reaching out a cold, clammy hand to shake. Shuddering inside, Nathan shakes it, subtly wiping his hand on his pants once Tsilinko looks away. “You’re lucky, we have a seat open right now,” he quietly says, leading them deeper into the little shop. Sitting Nathan down, he whips out an apron to cover his body, draping it over his shoulders. Pulling out small silver scissors, Nathan closes his eyes, not wanting to see what the man was about to do to his head. A few minutes and many tiny snip sounds later, and Nathan feels him stop. Peeking open his eyes, he’s relieved to find a normal haircut. It had been a while since he’d gotten it cut, and this was a respectable look. He feels his shoulders relax.

  “Now for the real fun,” Tsilinko chuckles, pulling out hair dye products. “What color would you like?”

  “Oh… no…” he starts to object, but a sharp look from Chester cuts him off. Resigning himself with a sigh, he leans toward the colors to inspect them. Finally selecting a dark purple that he hopes won’t stand out too much, he once again closes his eyes to let Tsilinko go to work.

  As he starts finishing, Chester pipes up. “Add some blue as well, I’d like that purple to stand out better.” Groaning inside, Nathan doesn’t say anything as he feels Tsilinko add the new color to his hair. After it’s dry, he peeks open his eyes, daring to look at himself in the mirror. To his relief, the blue added was still rather subtle and worked quite well with the purple.

  “Oh, that’s not bad,” he says before realizing that he’d said it out loud.

  Chuckling softly, Tsilinko whips the apron off of him, tossing it to the side. “I’m glad you like it. Now, Chester tells me you need a tattoo as well?”

  “Just a temporary one,” Nathan assures him, standing.

  “Sure. What would you like?”

  “Uh…” Scrambling for an idea, his mind once again goes to Crystal. “Do you have any dragons?”

  At this, Tsilinko lights up. “Why, yes! It is our most expensive, but I would be happy to get it for you. The legendary water dragon is a very good choice.”

  After he grabs the tattoo, Nathan watches as he carefully draws it onto the skin of his right bicep, curling around his arm. The tail reaches down to the inside of his elbow, and the head ends up on his shoulder. It was, truth be told, a magnificent design. Finishing, Tsilinko steps back, admiring his work as well. Grabbing a small vial, he hands it to Nathan. “Rub this on to remove it. Otherwise, it should last for about five years without a touch-up. Just don’t get it wet for another hour, alright?”

  “Sounds good, thank you, Tsilinko,” Nathan smiles, relieved at the end result of the whole expedition. “You did a wonderful job.”

  “Thank you,” he responds with a smile.

  “Sit here a moment and I’ll go pay him,” Chester instructs, reaching out his hand for Nathan’s coin pouch. Handing it over, Nathan’s relief increases at this elegant solution for him not knowing how to pay for anything yet.

  Leaning back in the chair, he closes his eyes for a moment. These changes are physical, but Crystal and I only just got to Quagon not even twenty-four hours ago. Who knows what changes are going to take place in us while we’re here?

  <<>>

  Jared was honored to be among the King, Queen, and the rest of the Council, but he wasn’t so sure he wanted to be there, exactly. He supposed it was better than continuing work on the wall, but he still felt dirty and insignificant compared to the powerful people in the room he was guarding. Angela had suggested him when it was brought up that they should have at least one guard to keep all those people safe as they’re gathered in one place, and he was grateful. Still, that didn’t ease his fidgeting as he stands by the door, a sword at his hip. Glancing over at the other guard, a much more experienced fighter than he, with the actual Gift of fighting, Jared just feels even more out of place. Now that guy was meant to be here, that firm look on his face as he focused his senses to predict any danger coming, his hand never leaving the hilt of his sword.

  Jared, by comparison? He definitely felt like a fraud. He had only been a soldier for a few weeks, and the role still didn’t fit well with him. Glancing over at Angela, who had been given a place at the table, he sighs. She was so nice to him. He wasn’t sure why, but he wasn’t about to fight her on it. He needed all the kindness he could after losing his mother while he was young, and his father just a few years ago.

  A smile twitches onto his lips as he recalls the walk that she had gone on with him a couple of days before. They had been wa
lking along the side of the creek when a loose rock had caused Angela to stumble, almost falling into the nearly frozen water. He had caught her, though, luckily. For a moment, he had just held her in his arms, amazed at how right it felt to have her there. Her hood had been thrown back by the movement, clearing up her face to be better seen. He had frozen, staring into her eyes, their faces closer than he thought he could have been comfortable with.

  Jared sighs as he returns to the present, moving his gaze from Angela to the floor. He had wanted to kiss her then, but had held back. How could he not? She was with Nathan. He couldn’t wedge himself between them, however nice Angela was to him. They would just have to be friends. Still, his heart burns with joy at the thought. Even having her as just a friend was a gift, and he would never jeopardize that.

  Leaning back against the door, he closes his eyes and can’t help but think of how glad he would be to have a chance with her if Nathan ended up choosing another. Maybe I should befriend him as well, he muses. He fits well with Crystal. I’m not sure if he sees it, so perhaps I can show him. If he did go after her as well… well, that would fix everything.

  <<>>

  Walking quickly, her long legs take her further away from those hunting her with every stride. Her grey cloak is pulled up, covering her face. Despite the cold, she keeps to the shadows, seeming to avoid the sunlight as she travels. The eyes of those she passes glaze over her as if she was invisible, focusing on anything but her. A simple spell, but very useful for someone on the run like her. She couldn’t afford to have anyone see her, not with the Higher Power transferring some of their malice onto her, and their forces were spread throughout all the realms. No one could know her path, let alone her destination.

  Hurrying into the park, she snarls at the brightness of it all. I hate Lii, she growls to herself, tugging her hood up higher as she slips into the shadow of a large tree. As she does, her arm accidentally brushes against the soft, fur-like trunk of the tree. Shuddering, she pulls away. There’s so much magic here. Most of my kind enjoy Lii simply because of that, but me… it’s all so off-puttingly unnatural. Dragonfire, I can’t wait to get out of here. Shivering, she wraps her arms around herself and waits, the pit in her stomach growing as more time passes. What if he doesn’t come? Dread starts sinking in at the thought. She couldn’t stay on Lii. She would definitely be caught with so many of the Higher Power’s troops concentrated here.

  Finally, she senses movement deeper in the park. Shuddering, she steps carefully towards it, winding her way around the trees and past bushes. Finally, she sees him, standing with his back to her, alone in the crystal field. Dressed humbly, the man stands regally, his shoulders back and head held high. She can picture his dark blue eyes even though she hadn’t seen them for years.

  “Zarafa,” he murmurs, not moving to look at her. “I’m surprised that you reached out to me.”

  “I don’t have a lot of places to turn,” she murmurs in response, her voice breaking. Getting her insignia seared off had not been a fun nor pretty sight. Tucking said hand back under her warm winter cloak, she takes another step toward him. As she does so, he spins and draws her to him, one arm wrapped around the small of her back. He’s so warm she almost doesn’t notice the knife he holds to her throat in his other hand. Almost.

  “So you came just to get revenge, Dalwork?”

  He looks down into her eyes, their faces mere inches apart. His lip twitches. She waits silently for his decision, hoping she hadn’t gone so far as to make him hate her. Finally, he releases her, stepping back and sheathing his viglax-coated knife. “No. Not now, at least.”

  “…Thank you, Dalwork,” Zarafa sighs, relaxing a little.

  “Don’t thank me yet,” he smirks, his stubble not quite hiding the dimple that appears as he does so. “We’ve got to get you to safety, first. …I don’t suppose you can tell me where you’re going?”

  “I’m sorry… I can’t. I just need your help with the portals, and then I have to go it alone. They have eyes and ears everywhere, Dalwork.”

  He sighs and shakes his head sadly. “I wish you had listened to me when I told you to get out years ago, Zarafa.”

  “I know,” she whispers, fidgeting. “You were right. I just… wanted to matter. Wanted to serve some greater cause.”

  “And now they’re hunting you.” Shaking his head once more, he simply waves her forward. “The place is over here. We’ll just appear in the middle of the forest in Zilferia so none of your enemies there will find us as I create another portal for you.”

  She nods gratefully and follows him, stepping carefully around the crystalline flowers. “Thank you, Dalwork. It really means a lot to me.” He nods but doesn’t reply, stopping only as they come to a hedge that appeared to be made of feathers with a pink sheen to them. “After you,” he says, waving her in. Taking a deep breath, she ducks inside, followed closely by Dalwork. They don’t speak as the white portal whisks them away from the center of the Higher Power, and even as it dumps them upon Zilferia’s soft grass, Zarafa wishes she could spend more time with Dalwork, even if he was treating her rather coldly compared to how they once were. “Alright. What realm are you headed to, at least?” he asks, rolling up his sleeves, preparing to work his magic once more. Although she had been born with it, his gift with magic was much stronger, and with the portals becoming increasingly unstable, she didn’t wish to risk traveling through and have something happen.

  “…Zelon,” she finally replies, tossing back her red hair.

  After staring at her for a moment, he nods. “Makes sense. More so than Ponorama, at least. The sun there…”

  “Exactly. But although the red sun of Zelon is no picnic either, it’s much more survivable than Ponorama.”

  Nodding slowly, he gives her a small smile. “Good luck, Zarafa. …I hope to see you again in better times.”

  “I do as well,” she sighs, feeling her heart lift at seeing his smile one more time. As he begins to call forth the portal, Zarafa turns her thoughts inward. Now that the Higher Power had kicked her out, she had no more reason to resist the small flame within her, burning with hatred for them. It may take a while, but somehow she knew.

  That mistake would ultimately lead to their downfall.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Messes

  Hunter races through the halls, worry pounding in his chest. Why did it have to be the one friend that I have here that got attacked while I wasn’t there to protect him? He rages at himself, his feet pounding on the hard stone floors. I really should have sent Bryce. It seemed like overkill at the time for a simple border patrol, but now… Feeling despair setting in, he shakes it off. It doesn’t sound like he’s going to die. He’s lost a lot of blood, but the doctors should have him stable by now. He’ll be okay. Still, he’s angry at himself for sending his friend into danger. That was the main reason he had never let him guard Crystal, or join the suicide mission that Patrick had sent them all on not long ago to try and wipe out the dragons all at once. The decision that had led to Hunter himself replacing Patrick as the leader of the Dragon Hunters.

  Bursting into the appointed room, Hunter shoves his way past the doctors, his eyes focused on the body lying in the bed. “Scourge!” he shouts, fear in his voice. A moment of panic passes as the body doesn’t move and Hunter feels his chest constrict. Finally, the head turns toward him.

  “Hunter,” the voice responds, stronger than he was fearing.

  Shoulders sagging with relief, Hunter finally makes it through all the people in the room to make it to Scourge’s bed. “Scourge. I’m so relieved you’re okay,” he pants, winded from his run across the castle.

  Giving him a weak smile, Scourge responds, “Yeah, you haven’t seen the end of me yet. I’m still here. Well, most of me anyway,” he adds bitterly, lifting his hand for Hunter to see. Although heavily bandaged, Hunter could see that the tips of most of his fingers were gone. A straight line from the tip of his pointer finger to the second knuckle of h
is pinky was where the area was damaged.

  Confused, Hunter responds, “The werewolves did that?”

  “Technically I did,” Dexter pipes up, drawing Hunter’s attention to him for the first time.

  “What do you mean, you did?” Hunter gasps in surprise. “You cut off my friend’s fingers?”

  “To save him from the werewolves, yes. It would have had to be done later regardless, knowing how filthy those animals are. It was guaranteed to get infected.” At Hunter’s continued stare, he sighs. “I know he’s your friend, and I’m sorry this happened to him. It was a split-second decision, and I’m sure you’d rather have him here missing a few fingers than otherwise, right?”

  “It’s alright, Hunter,” Scourge pipes up. “It’s not Dexter’s fault. It’s the werewolves. We’ll just move them up on the list to destroy, right? Besides, I can learn to get by without my fingers. I’ll just learn to be left-handed like you,” he smiles.

  Finally smiling in return, Hunter nods. “Yes. Those flea-bags have got to go.”

  <<>>

  Keyana paces the perimeter of the merfolks’ camp, glaring down at the city of humans. She was beginning to grow used to her legs, but she would never grow used to the company of humans. Why her King had decided to have them join this strange group was beyond her. We could just as easily transform every mermaid and storm the Dragon Hunters’ castle ourselves. They would fall beneath our might alone. So why are we waiting for this human king to tell us what to do and when to do it?

  “Keyana.” The voice behind her speaks in a calming tone, but she will have none of it.

  “Krasnigor,” she responds, spinning to face him, her red hair fanning out behind her as she does so. “What are you doing? You should be resting.”

  “Keyana,” he repeats, looking down at her with some semblance of kindness. “What are you so anxious about? We are not even fighting currently.”

  “Exactly,” she growls, turning back to face the horizon. “It feels so useless, sitting here and waiting for a human to direct us. Doesn’t it feel… mocking? To our power, to our people’s honor?”