by Paul Cude
Caught up in another’s psyche was proving to be much better than he could ever remember. Of course he’d done this before, hundreds of times in fact, taking what he wanted whether his enemy liked it or not, subjugating others to his will, even on occasion taking lives in this fashion. It wasn’t the easiest way to do that, but there was something about it that he found quite refreshing, at least that’s what his memories were telling him. In the past though, he’d only ever used it against dragons... members of his own race, intellects familiar, filled with thoughts, ideas and secrets that all made sense to him. Now though... wow, this was something else altogether. Unfamiliar script wove in and out of his consciousness, accompanied by strange thoughts, details about magical restraints and foreign spells. It was both a delight and a torment being there. If he’d understood it all, it would have been great. Because he couldn’t, he quickly became frustrated, rushing his rummaging around, hastily damaging everything in his way in the search for the truth. THERE! In his rush, he almost missed it... almost. Only moments ago, an attempted contact from outside of this prison... it must be them, surely it must be them. Caught up in the mind of another, answers coming thick and fast, momentarily the outside world failed to exist for him, all sense of danger totally ignored.
Watching Marg’s excruciating agony and his father’s stony delight, Man could take no more, and so setting his morality free and feeding off the disgust he felt at what was going on, he dipped into his well of magic and, unleashing the most powerful of the spells that he’d learnt during the previous day’s teachings, he used all his will to send out a hail of supernatural projectiles, aiming them squarely at his father’s exposed back.
In less than the blink of an eye, the magic passed between them. The youngster had learnt well, applying all his considerable will behind it, remaining fully focused despite the situation. Unfortunately though, he’d made one costly mistake. He’d chosen to use fire as his primary method, and whilst this was his strongest form of offence, he should have taken into consideration that he was taking on a dragon, alright, one in its human guise, but nevertheless, still a dragon, and dragons everywhere, no matter what their persona, still have an affinity with and natural defences against... FIRE!
Wide-eyed at having just discovered some of the most deadly, dark, vile and evil magic he’d ever seen, abruptly alarm bells rang out deep inside his head. Attempting to look over his shoulder in the direction of his son, it was then that the projectiles slammed into his exposed back, drilling holes into his skin, scorching his organs, setting alight the tattered rags that he wore.
“Aaaaarrrggghhhhhh!” he screamed, dropping to his knees, waves of agonising pain piercing every nerve ending inside him.
If Man weren’t so naive, and had experienced even the most basic battle training, he would have known to finish off a difficult, cunning and deadly opponent while he had the chance. But that knowledge did not reside inside him, that and the fact that it was his father suffering, was enough to take his eye off the ball so to speak. And so he just stood and watched his father twist and writhe in misery, flames burning his skin, madness and anger spilling over, his shrieks of pain reverberating around the cavern.
Intruder instantly gone from his mind, Marg collapsed to the ground, soaking up the cold, mind in tatters, unable to form any coherent thought at all. Far away, a cool, calculating magic locked onto his naga essence and began tracking its way to him. The king’s cohorts had found what they were looking for, and were now headed this way. The leader’s plan was coming together nicely, with the exception of just one thing.
Roaring like a lion having just been stung on the trumpet, Man’s father went absolutely ballistic, rising to his feet, shaking off the remnants of what passed for his clothing, sending brightly glowing, brilliant orange embers scattering into the air.
Instantly Man took two steps back, as the crazed form of his burning dad whirled around furiously, yelling and screaming, kicking, stamping and waving his arms angrily, enraged and infuriated, searching for some kind of target. Only at that very moment, did the elder of the two brothers realise the trouble he was in. Cursing very loudly in his mind, and willing his friend the naga to get up and join the fight, Man readied his defences, exactly as he’d been taught, and prepared for the onslaught that he knew, without doubt, would be coming his way.
Pain and fury punctured every nerve, every vein, every blood vessel, every major organ, decimating his will, destroying his desire to live. All he wanted was to be rid of it, for things to be at an end. Instinctively he tried to climb to his feet, his body moving of its own accord, the pain taking it this way and that, arms whirring like drunken windmills. But he failed miserably. From out of nowhere, and somewhere deep inside the despicable depths that made up his character, a rising, unforgiving voice shouted over the maelstrom of charred bone and burning tissue,
“GET UP! DO IT NOW!”
Without delay, he rose to his feet, all the time fighting the blistering agony that had enveloped the whole of his body.
“FIGHT BACK! IT’S WHAT YOU DO!”
Those words caused him to remember... fighting back, anyway.
Twirling around, a ballet dancer ablaze, something caught his attention through the fire, flame and tortuous haze... his SON! Standing there, smoke and ethereal tendrils of flame from the magic he’d dispensed still hanging in the air directly above his fingertips, looking terrified and afraid.
“AS WELL HE SHOULD!” screamed the voice, urging on its owner to much darker deeds.
As if it was the most natural thing in the world, the leader thrust out his arm, opened out his smouldering fingers and willed his magic to work. It did, and to great effect.
Brightly coloured dark blue and purple crisscrossing lines of flickering, zigzagging convulsive electricity lit up the cavern, from the reflections on the smooth surfaces all around, adding to the terror and anticipation Man felt in no small way. Before the first sign of current had even got near him, he was absolutely petrified, unable to move even a muscle. An instant later, the full force of the supernatural onslaught devoured his body in the most painful of embraces, setting his teeth on fire, making his eyeballs burn, pricking his skin with a billion razor sharp needles, splintering his finger and toenails, tearing at his genitals. As the confusion, pain, rip-roaring agony and fright gripped him, instantly he wished for unconsciousness to take him, or even to die. Unfortunately, he wasn’t nearly that lucky. Tongue charred like the worst case of burnt toast, tiny little bolts of electricity continued to zip around inside his mouth, glancing off teeth, the roof of his mouth and then his charred, limp tongue. It was all encompassing, and more importantly, a telling lesson.
As his son struggled, the leader, although still in dire straits, gained the upper hand. That is until a long, scaled appendage whistled across the floor, knocking him off his feet, sending him clattering to the frosty ground, a loud CRACK accompanied by screech of pain.
Through the crazed agony and the mind-bending pain that gripped his body, Man could vaguely make out words somewhere off in the distance.
“You must finish him off now, while he’s vulnerable. If you don’t, then we’re all doomed.”
His first thought was that he didn’t understand either the meaning, or who the words belonged to. As the moments passed his thought process began to clear despite the pain. A split second later and he had it. Marg! The words belonged to his friend, lying face down on the floor, his giant tail having just brushed away his father’s legs. He had to act, and now.
Scared beyond belief, not only at the thought of taking a life for the very first time, but of his father, confusion and indecision ate away at him from the inside, preventing him from taking immediate action. If it hadn’t, and he’d just got on with the job, he might have saved them all. As it stood, doom was about to come knocking.
As his father once again crawled to his knees, his brother, and then mother, were thrust through the entrance to the enclave by a group of his fat
her’s men. Shaking uncontrollably from the electricity still zipping around his system, Man took one uncertain step in their direction, before a harsh voice stopped him in his tracks.
“STOP!” bellowed his father.
Unsurprisingly, he did as he was told, his only current concern, the fate of his mother.
“If he takes one more step towards either of them, or looks to ignite his magic as a threat... kill her,” commanded his father to one of the thugs. Immediately the dragon in human form pulled a sharp, scorched piece of metal from about his body, and pulling the woman’s hair back, held it tightly against her throat.
“NO!” screamed her eldest son, desperate to stop anything bad from happening to her.
“I TOLD YOU WHAT WOULD HAPPEN SHOULD YOU DEFY ME!” screamed the leader. “YOU’LL BE SORRY YOU’VE GONE AGAINST ME!”
“No... no... no I’ll do anything you want, please... just don’t hurt her.”
“ANYTHING?”
“Yes... yes... yes anything. I promise.”
Strolling casually across the chamber towards the source of the attack that had caused him so much pain, the leader finally had the chance to cast a series of healing mantras, quelling the flames, quenching his burning bones, healing the damaged tissue and replacing lost blood. Relief washed over him as he vanquished the agony, well... most of it anyway. Standing directly in front of his cowed son, one thought and one thought only raced around inside his head. Most beings might have been able to resist. Not this one.
In a blur, his leg kicked out, his foot effortlessly smashing through the kneecap of his son, a huge explosion of breaking bone echoing around the chamber, causing Josh and his mother to cry out and wince at the same time. Man hit the floor hard, brutal waves of extraordinary pain coursing up his leg, inundating him with feelings the likes of which he’d never known. Much more on top of things, the leader crouched down next to his felled son, and placed his hand on the boy’s broken knee. To a man and a woman, everyone there watching figured that after teaching the youngster a lesson, his father would now offer up some much needed supernatural healing. Given the leader’s inherently dark nature, what happened next really shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Using something from the naga’s mind he’d only moments ago invaded against its will, a spell that translated roughly as ‘sonic crusher’, the leader placed his fingertips into the gaping knee wound that had shards of bone sticking out, and let rip with all the willpower he possessed. If the onlookers had considered anything that had gone on previously to be painful, this took things up a notch or ten. Instantly Man screamed, or at least tried to with the charred tongue that no longer served its purpose. Strange, angry, sucking noises were all that came out as he rolled around in outstanding agony. As he finished, fully aware that his son, whenever now in that shape would carry more than a little limp, he leaned in close and whispered,
“That’s for you to remember me by. Don’t ever go up against me again.”
Through the confusion and angst of it all, Man healed himself as best he could, melting away at least most of the pain, but not when it came to his knee. Something about that felt wrong, and more permanent than anything else. A rising tide of anger nipping at his heels, he fought back an urge to act, knowing that his mother was still in danger. As he did so though, a singular thought occupied his mind. If she could be made safe... what then? Aware that Josh was within an arm’s length of his mother’s throat, and could through a combination of surprise and overwhelming strength negate the threat quite quickly, if that were the case, it would give him enough time to transform into his prehistoric natural form, and finish things off once and for all. Nobody would be able to stop them. As well, if he communicated his plan to Marg, the naga just might be able to help them, even in his injured state.
From his position on the floor, Man grabbed hold of his magic, and using all his will, forced himself inside his brother’s mind. When it was done, and he was sure no one could tell what was going on, least of all his father, he spoke in a hushed whisper, so as not to surprise Josh.
“Brother, can you hear me? Don’t speak out loud... I’m inside your mind.”
“Man?”
“That’s right.”
“What’s going on? Why are you here?”
“I need your help to keep Mother safe.”
“W... w... what do you want me to do?”
“If you can get that weapon away from her throat, I’ll do the rest.”
“How on earth are you going to do that? No offence, but you don’t look like you’re in a position to do anything.”
“I’m going to change back into my dragon form. They won’t stand a chance once that’s happened.”
“Do you really think it will work?”
“I think it’s the best chance there is. Do you really want to do nothing and see how this all plays out? I guarantee he’s going to kill Mother, no matter what we do now, you can just see it in his eyes.”
Inside Josh’s head, he agreed wholeheartedly.
“So will you help?”
“Yes,” decided his brother.
“I’m going to see if our naga friend there can create some sort of distraction. Wait for my signal.”
And with that, their communication was lost, leaving Josh standing next to his mother, more than a little gobsmacked at what had just happened.
Outstretched on the icy hard ground, brain scrambled, barely able to put a coherent thought together, Marg was an absolute mess. That still didn’t stop him from trying to rally against it all. If nothing else, nagas were stubborn and at times possessed a single minded will like no other being on the planet. And with a clear and present threat to his monarch which felt very much like his fault, he attempted to do all that he could in an effort to rectify the situation.
“Marg, it’s me... Man,” floated a soft velvety voice across his psyche.
Garbled thoughts tumbled around his mind, singular words trying to capture his attention.
‘Trap, friend, help, betray, coming, here, now, danger, sorry.’ It was almost impossible to separate them all.
Ignoring his friend’s muddled mind, the elder of the two brothers continued.
“I need you to create a distraction. Can you help?”
Words whistled around between the two of them, the naga unable to express his opinion clearly.
‘Tragedy, save, fight, death blame, escape, foreboding, rescue, pain, wickedness, violence, destruction, lies, manipulation, kin, truth, scapegoat.’
It was painful to hear across the link, and broke Man’s heart, but still he pushed on.
“MARG!” he shouted over the sound of the words, drifting along on the wind between them. “I need your help. Please can you create some kind of distraction? I think it just might be enough to save us all.”
Sanity returned, albeit briefly.
“I’ll do what I can... friend.”
And with that, silence encompassed their link.
Man took a breath, readied himself to unlock the strands of DNA that would affect the change and prepared to give his brother the signal. If this didn’t work, quite literally they were all dead.
“In a movement so quick, it was just one long continuous blur, the naga strewn out on the floor whipped its snake-like body around and leapt up and across towards the leader, its razor sharp teeth clamping down on the bottom part of his leg, eliciting the mother of all screams as it did so.
Man didn’t even need to tell his brother to react, he was already on it. Coiled like a spring, Josh jumped his attacker, forcing his arm between the sharpened shiv and his mother’s throat, sickly red blood spurting everywhere as the blade sliced open his frozen skin.
Watching with pride at his brother’s selfless act, Man sent the command, closed his eyes and as the feeling gripped every part of his body, prepared for action, welcoming a return to what he considered his natural form.
Caught off guard, the leader’s first reaction was to kick his leg out in an effort to shake f
ree of the naga’s frenzied attack. With teeth like that, and a vice-like grip, needless to say it didn’t work. Only focusing on this one thing, with the lethal threat taking up all his concentration, he was blissfully unaware of everything playing out around him.
Watching her son’s arm only a few centimetres from her face, sliced open like a soft, rare fruit, by one of their father’s thuggish brutes raised her hackles more than a little. So in a fit of fury, the protective side of her came to the fore, and in the blink of an eye, she leant forward and tore a huge chunk of flesh off the attacker’s hand with her teeth, immediately spitting it out, off to one side. Crying out in pain at the savage attack, instinctively their opponent dropped his weapon. Seizing his chance, Josh whirled around, and with all the speed and ferocity that he could muster, slammed his elbow into his enemy’s face, his reward, a satisfying CRACK that sent the threat plummeting to the ground. Only then did they both notice the second guard, all but upon them, waving around another homemade shiv. Defenceless, both backed away, but it was far too late for that. Instantly, he dived forward, intent on making them pay.
Words, thoughts, memories drifted in and out of one another, forcing him to relive tragedy, hope, despair and happiness in all but a moment. Clinging onto what he thought of as reality, he kept his jaws clamped tight around the leg of what he knew to be his enemy, and with all his might, used his strong body to wriggle and sway, tossing the leader of this dark and deadly place around like a rag doll in the air. This one thought, ‘I MUST keep the leader busy, because my friend is in trouble,’ pierced the veil of his mind, keeping him on the straight and narrow. How long it would last was anybody’s guess.
As the razor sharp blade cut through the air towards them, it seemed as though both of their lives were about to end abruptly, mother and son going out in a blaze of glory, both attempting to wrong a right, both terrified beyond belief. But as the blade got within a hairsbreadth of the mother’s throat, suddenly the attacker’s momentum died, as two humungous, prehistoric jaws crunched together, encasing the attacker’s whole body, sending bone, muscle and blood pelting into the walls and floor all around them. With one shake of his giant, prehistoric, light blue head, Man tossed what remained of the cadaver halfway across the room, and with a satisfying roar, knowing that his mother and brother were safe, stomped off towards his besieged father, limping ever so slightly as he did so.
