Night of the Dragons

by Miranda Martin

  As Royal swoops down and lops off the last one's head, I almost have the urge to clap. That was something to see, a fight taken almost to performance levels.

  But then Royal's and Emerald's eyes widen as they look behind me. Uh oh. There's that look again. I turn as I see them rushing towards me.

  Behind me, the next dune over is moving, with a shadowy layer over it. Wait. It isn't moving. Another wave of those scorpion-spiders is giving the illusion it is. They rush towards us, splitting to surround us in a pincer-like move, clicking angrily as they do so. They must have some kind of intelligence to be able to work a strategy like that. And they don't look too happy at the carnage surrounding us, though I might be projecting emotions on them. Hard to tell with, uh, faces like that.

  Royal and Emerald land in a crouch on either side of me, facing out towards the surrounding circle of creatures. More than they'd just taken care of. Many more. I can see from both Emerald's and Royal's faces that this isn't good.

  Not good at all.

  4

  The rippling wave of creatures is so thick, so dense, that it looks like it's never-ending, though I know that can't be true. It doesn't change the fact that it's terrifying to look at. If I were alone, I know I'd be dead in an instant, if that. They'd swarm and tear me apart so fast, I might not even feel anything. I shudder at that thought, trying not to imagine it, though it's hard with the creatures right in front of me. I remind myself of a very relevant fact and that helps a little. I'm not alone.

  Even though I just witnessed how they like to keep moving during a fight, neither Royal nor Emerald leave my side as the creatures rush us, staying in place to make sure none of them get to me. I really wish I wasn't such a liability.

  I can’t resist the urge to close my eyes as their staffs swing and stab around me, the scorpion-spider bodies starting to pile up. It beats wincing every time a weapon or stinger comes close to me, or witnessing the gore and pus these hideous creatures ooze when struck.

  Sadly, I can still smell the acrid odor.

  A grunt from one of the dragon-men pops my eyes wide open in concern but Royal and Emerald are keeping up the stabbing and swinging. But more just keep coming, though the sand underneath us begins to turn to mud because of the fluid leaking out of the many dead and dying creatures. Royal and Emerald are like machines, their shoulders and arms moving tirelessly as they kill one after another, their muscles bunching and relaxing with the powerful movements. Actually, the Rock doesn't have anything on them. Yes, they're large with impressive muscle, but it doesn't hinder their flexibility or the speed of their hits as they fight. I wince as Royal crushes one of the scorpion-spider's heads with the butt of his staff. The sounds and smells are really not pretty.

  Despite how good Royal and Emerald are, I can still see the writing on the wall. It's clear. I can see that defeat is inevitable, no matter how fast and strong they are. It's not their fault. There are just too many of those horrendous scorpion-spiders to fight. The sheer numbers will overwhelm us eventually. I can already see the clear circle around us getting incrementally smaller as the creatures get closer to us, Royal and Emerald fighting for all they're worth just to try to hold their ground against the tide.

  I don't know if I can watch as they slowly engulf us. Maybe it's okay to close my eyes now. What's worse? Seeing it coming or being a little surprised by it? I don't know. But I do know watching those wet-looking eyes venture closer and closer is not helping. Closing them it is.

  Just as I close my eyes however, I feel both Royal and Emerald shift oddly on either side of me. Not like they've been doing throughout the fight. It's different somehow.

  My eyes snap open as I hear their shouts. They've been silent apart from grunts of effort. I don't know what they're shouting, but I can tell they're actual words. What is going on? Why are they calling out now?

  I scan the crawling black sea around us, wondering what they've seen, what I don't know yet. My eyes pause as I see the distinct flash of metal, familiar now from seeing Royal's and Emerald's respective staffs swinging. Another flash of metal catches my eye in another area. I frown. They look familiar. More than just a metallic flash can account for. As I catch another flash, I realize why. The light bounces back in a curved shape, the metal glinting just like Royal's and Emerald's staffs! They're staffs!

  Just as I realize that, another dragon man jumps into the air, using his wings to rise up and stab down in a powerful arc. My eyes lock on his form. He's an eye-catching meld of reds and oranges, his amber eyes flashing even from some distance away. And his face . . . yeah, I'm still afraid, but I have to take a moment just to appreciate that face. He has the kind of good looks I've only seen in movies. Perfectly symmetrical in every way, with high cheekbones and the accompanying hollows underneath, a defined jaw, his hair flowing out behind him as he lands in a crouch. He's just undeniably beautiful, a word I usually reserved for women, but that for sure applies to this guy.

  If there wasn't so much going on, I might have spent some time just staring at that perfection, but there's a whole battle happening around me. More movement catches my eye. When I tear my eyes away to look over, I see the other dragon man who arrived as well.

  I don't know how I missed this one. He's massive. He stands out even next to his already-hulking counterparts. Several inches taller and even more muscled then the rest, his bulk is truly intimidating. He looks like a tank, one that might be able to plow through all of these creatures single-handedly, though I know that isn't true. He's also a different color than the rest. His scales are a dark blue that deepens to an inky navy that's almost pitch black but not quite, with an iridescent sheen that's uniquely pretty—an odd word to describe any part of a guy who looks like that.

  His eyes are the same dark, dark blue, nearing black, narrowed with focus. They look fierce as he cuts a swath through the monsters, his granite jaw clenched as his muscled arms swing his staff with so much power he cleaves the scorpion-spiders in half rather than just beheading them like the rest are doing. That's a scary amount of strength. I'm glad he’s on our side. I wouldn't want to be facing that force of nature.

  The two newcomers quickly fight their way closer to us, their intention to do so clear in every move they make. Emerald and Royal finally get some breathing room when some of the creatures turn to fight the new threat in their midst, splitting their forces.

  As the scorpion-spiders start to thin out, they also leave some space around me. I stop hunching into myself as I watch the fight again. Royal and Emerald mesh just as well with these two as they do with each other. I keep an eye out around me as they move through the remainder of the scorpion-spiders in a smooth unit, none of them going after the same one, all of them striking with a smooth efficient precision that is truly awe-inspiring.

  They're like a well-oiled machine, like they've done this a million times and know exactly what to do, how to do it, where to be. Their hair whips around their faces and muscled bodies, their tails whipping around in tandem with their movements as their wings flare out to give them height and balance. They're almost dancing with their staffs, each of them performing a kind of battle choreography, perfectly in tune with one another. They perform that deadly dance through the battle like a seasoned troupe, one that people would likely pay a lot of money to see, if only for how gorgeous they look while they do it.

  Sooner than I would have expected, the last scorpion-spider is dead, its head separated from its body in a gory mess. Silence settles over the area as we all survey the damage for a moment, the dragon men breathing harshly at the effort it took to kill so many. The entire area around us is littered with bodies, more than I could count if I was inclined—which I'm really, really not. I'd rather not even look at the things.

  I'm just glad none of them are the dragon men's. Or mine for that matter.

  When I glance around at them, they all look pretty intact. And I'm still standing. I almost can't believe it. It feels kind of like a miracle. I have no idea how
I'm still alive after everything I've been through, honestly. I really shouldn't be. It doesn't make any kind of statistical or practical sense.

  As I consider that for a moment, I'm quickly surrounded by a wall of towering alien dragon man muscle in a rainbow of colors. I blink at how fast they moved. It's even more impressive this close up. And yeah, I've never felt this quite this small before, even after a lifetime of feeling tiny.

  I've never felt this vulnerable either.

  I freeze as the new guys both reach out at the same time to touch me, their large hands slow and gentle as they lightly touch my hair. Stroke my arms. My face. Their eyes are absorbed, wondering as they skim their hands over me, the cool, callused palms not unpleasant, but kind of odd.

  Um.

  Okay.

  I'll just stand here while they pet me, I guess.

  Royal and Emerald say something and the new guys reply, their odd, slightly lisping and softly hissing language going right over my head. I have no idea what they're saying, which is pretty damn frustrating. They're all staring at me as they talk to each other, which gives me a pretty strong clue, doesn't it?

  I'm guessing the conversation has turned to me. Which is crazy considering we're standing in the middle of an actual battle zone, the smell of the dead carcasses around us acrid and bitter. How can I be more interesting than that, I don't know.

  I let out a small, embarrassing squeak as the orange one suddenly reaches out and picks me up in a hug with no warning at all, his cool skin pressed against my front as his thick arms squeeze me against him. I'm suddenly high enough and close enough that his face is only inches away from mine, so near that I can feel his breath against me as he exhales. I stare, not being able to help it. I can see now that he's just as perfect this close up as he is from far away.

  My heart starts to race as his alien, amber colored eyes scan my face thoroughly. Lingering on my lips. My own eyes automatically drop to his full ones of their own volition. They look plump and kissable. Kissable! Is he . . . is he going to kiss me? If he was a regular man, I'd have little doubt that was what he was thinking. But do these guys even kiss?

  Is that really what he's actually thinking? Or am I completely off my mark and he's just wondering something weird like why I'm not speaking, or why my skin is so pale when theirs is so colorful. I raise my eyes back to his, but his are still locked on my lips. I feel my heartbeat picking up even more. What if he does kiss me? Would it be so bad?

  All of them are alien and strange, but they're taking care of me. I wouldn't even be alive now if it wasn't for all of them. That's true no matter how you slice everything that's happened. And there's no denying their attractiveness. All right, fine. I'll admit it. There's no denying how ridiculously hot they are. Each and every one of them in their own, unique way.

  I think about that as I take this one in while I grip his arms, suspended in the air in front of him. He doesn't seem to be tiring at all. Like he could hold me in that position forever. I didn't realize strength like that could be so sexy. Or maybe I just didn't realize that I'm so basic and easy.

  As I scan his beautiful coloring, I decide right then and there to call him Fire. It suits him to a T. And no, it's not because of how fast my heart is beating or the heat gathering between my thighs. Nope. Totally because of his coloring and not because of anything else. I totally believe myself there.

  Fire raises his eyes to meet mine, the heat in them clear, focused completely on me. Appropriate with his new name, I think vaguely, unable to look away from that gaze. My breath catches at the undeniable expression. Oh yeah. He wants to kiss me. Or at least do something along those lines. No way he's looking at me like that because he's just curious or wondering why I look so odd next to them.

  I cry out in surprise as I hear a harsh hiss, right before I'm yanked right out of Fire's arms.

  "Hey!" How rude!

  I look down at the yellow-and-green scales and realize it's Emerald. Why would he do that? Did he not like Fire holding me? Is he jealous? I look around at the others, my back braced against Emerald's cool, rock hard chest. As I do, I realize something. Actually...nobody looks exactly happy as they look around at each other warily, their bodies stiffening.

  My throat clicks as I swallow in the quiet.

  The blue-black one looks quietly pissed, his bulging arms crossed across his chest, his dark eyes narrowed and gleaming as he watches. Like a predator watching from behind brush. Silent and waiting for his chance to strike. Patient and deadly. That's how he looks. I shiver a little. Dangerous. That's the vibe I get from that one. There's his name. He'll be Danger. Might as well finish naming everyone. I also realize he's the only one without a color related name, but it suits him too much to change it. And I don't think he's an Indigo.

  I look around the group, tearing my eyes away from his dark ones with some effort. Fire and Royal are tense, their eyes flicking from person to person. I'm sure Emerald isn't relaxed either, judging from the way he's holding me. This doesn't look good at all. I feel kind of like a chew toy thrown into a pit of hungry dogs. Or maybe a juicy steak.

  What's going on?

  Are they about to fight over me?

  Because shouldn't I have a say in the matter if they are? I don't care how they look at me, I'm not a piece of steak they can just have because they want it. I cross my arms. You know what? If everyone else is pissed, I can be pissed too.

  So there.

  Nobody seems to pay any attention to my own quiet anger though.

  Damn it.

  5

  Royal steps forward, saying something in a low voice to Emerald and the rest. His face is calm, as is his voice, like he's trying to bring everyone back down from the weird place they've gotten to. And they listen, their attention turning to him. Everyone is still tense, but the edge of danger to the situation slowly softens as Royal takes another careful step towards me, holding his arms out as he meets Emerald's eyes deliberately. His tone and his expression isn't confrontational, but it isn't placating either. It's obvious he must be asking for me. Why else would he put his arms out like that?

  But Emerald tightens his grip on me rather than handing me over. Oh no. I try to stay calm myself, not wanting to add fuel to the fire. Royal says something else, this time in a firmer tone. The others watch with narrow eyes as Emerald makes no move to comply. Danger and Fire take a step forward towards us. They look ready to use physical force if they have to.

  Emerald shifts and I wonder what he's going to do. Is he really going to try to fight all three of them over this? There's no way he'd win that fight.

  I feel like the Ring. Though I couldn't imagine anyone who looks further from Gollum than Emerald. A beat of hesitation where I can almost hear him going through the same thought process. If he starts calling me his precious, I am so outta here.

  Another beat where I feel like we're all holding our breath. And then he hands me over to Royal, saying something gruffly as he does. Whew. Relief hits me in a cool slide. That felt way too close for comfort.

  The tension dissipates as Royal cradles me against his chest, the others taking a step back. I let out the breath I'd been holding. Royal must be the leader or at least the peacekeeper among the group. The others must really respect him and have faith in his judgment to listen to him when it was clear they didn't really want to. And I had no doubt at this point that these four are a group. They were too comfortable in battle and too familiar with each other. They must spend a lot of time together.

  When we start moving again, the others arranged around Royal and me, I'm just happy it isn't after a fight. And that we're leaving those . . . things behind us. If I never see another one of them again, I'll be ecstatic. I breathe easier as we start trekking across the desert again, the air hot but at least it doesn't have that smell those scorpion-spiders gave off, an almost acrid musky odor that didn't improve with all the gore that was left behind. I feel my stomach roil at the thought. Okay, maybe it's best not to think too much about th
at.

  It takes some effort, but after a while, I fall into a lulled state once again. Royal is walking so smoothly and his body is so cool against mine, so comfortable to lie against. I turn my head lazily to see where we're headed, watching as we pass dune after dune, the red of the planet starting to feel weirdly familiar. I guess it isn't surprising. It's basically all I've seen since I woke up. I'm even starting to pick out more variants in the different shades of red.

  We don't travel for nearly as long this time before I see a break in the monotonous red around us. I blink, shielding my eyes as I see a couple of very tall shapes come into view when we crest another dune. But it isn't just their size that catches my attention. It's their color. Green! The color is jarring after only seeing red, but I welcome it.

  The shapes are actual trees! Though they don't look like any kind of tree I've ever seen depicted. Maybe around seven feet tall, they're so wide at their trunks that it's almost comical. I could never be able to wrap my arms around one. Heck, I don't think ten of me could wrap my arms around that reddish bark. At the very top of those thick trunks, the trees sported green leaves on branches fanning out, almost completely perpendicular to the trunk towards the bottom of the fanned-out shape. It looks like an oddly warped version of the trees I've seen in the media we had on board the ship. Simultaneously stretched both vertically and horizontally.

  Between those two hulking examples of vegetation, there's something I haven't seen here before. I almost don't believe it. Water. A very small pool of it, yes. But it's water. Or, at least, I think it is. It's clear and wet, and sparkles where the sun hits it, reflecting the light. Even that small pool of it is a sight for my sore eyes. I immediately want to run over and jump in it, dunk my whole body in it.