by Noah Harris
The two traveled on gusts of wind and soared through the night. They looked at the enormous world around them and thought together in unison:
It’s been so long since I’ve felt this way!
Guy strolled back through the front door with a contented sigh. He had the apartment to himself now and he allowed himself to bask in the quiet of the moment. He enjoyed Barry’s company but he had long since admitted to himself that he needed to lie in the silence and company of an empty bed to fully savor and appreciate being with others. It was a time to contemplate. Among the dozens of hobbies that swallowed so much of the penthouse, meditation was one of the most important to him and took up the least amount of space.
He casually shuffled through his record collection and settled on “Easy Listening Under the Sea: Smooth Jazz for the Thinking Man." With the wear and tear around the corners and the faded image on the front of the sleeve, he briefly reflected on just how many times he had played this record since its initial release. He could probably find this in any vintage record store for at least a dollar. He knew he wouldn’t get any money if he wanted to sell it but it had helped him drift off to sleep for well over fifty years and at this point that was worth more to him than money. You could wrestle his collection of polka medleys off him and he wouldn’t be upset if he had lost the broadway show tunes collection, but he would literally lose countless hours of sleep if he couldn’t find his smooth jazz collection.
The record began to play with a scratch and filled the penthouse with the muted melodies of bleating trumpets and deep pulses of a bass as he wandered off to his bedroom with a filled glass of wine in his hand. He shed his clothes, all except his boots, as he trotted through the room and lit the fireplace. He reached the bed, took a deep swig of his drink and flung himself onto it.
He smiled as he let the sweet gentle melodies of the music lure him to a sense of peace. His mind began to wander and reflect on the day at hand. He felt a sense of weightlessness. In five hundred years he had never told any other human his secret.
He thought of Barry as he stared at the crackling fire from the corner of his eye. Something about the flame reminded him of Barry. Barry’s warm, endearing personality reminded him of a roaring fireplace. Guy felt cozy near him like he did next to the fire. Even if he did or said nothing he felt more content by its side than he did with any other person. Of the several people he had married, he’d never felt the level of connection or draw to them as he did with Barry. They were all just accessories. People he enjoyed the company of but still never really felt a bond with.
He had been drawn in by Xanathen’s magic show and wanted to observe him. He admitted it was easier to do so from afar through the mind of Barry. Though he found Xanathen’s magic quite intriguing, he never thought he’d be as repulsed by a fellow dragon as he was. From what he had heard and seen, he winced a little. Xanathen was reckless, impatient, self-important. So much of Xananthen reminded Guy of himself as a wyrmling.
If you’re gonna be those things, at least have the skills to back them up, Guy thought to himself.
He curled up to himself as he nestled into the clean sheets on his bed. He lay there as he felt his head begin to swell with tension. A feeling of dread crept over him. There was an intense sensation of something looming over him.
“Khiisthrasen.” A voice hissed in his head with an impatient tone but was as loud to Guy as if they were speaking right there in his room.
He clawed at his pillow as he tried to ignore it. The efforts were in vain, of course, and he knew it. The deep, echoing voice continued on in his head.
“Khiisthrasen… Khiisthrasen! Answer me immediately!” the booming voice continued.
“Ah, sorry.” Guy said. “I was…I’m here. Hello, elder.”
“Khiisthrasen. Why have you failed to answer me? It’s been nearly a century since you’ve last been back.”
“Fifty years, actually, but that’s nitpicking.” Guy said. “I keep telling you, I haven’t found out anything new. These humans are super crafty. Once I find one weakness, they get stronger and fix it. They’re more elusive than they seem. But I might have a lead with this ‘gluten’ thing…”
“You’ve been saying the same thing for centuries. If this is too much for you to handle, then obviously you are not meant for the task.”
“What?” Guy tried his best to suppress the panic in his voice. “Oh, trust me, I’m perfect for this. Look at how long I’ve lasted without falling ill with one of their diseases! Have you met any other dragon that has?”
“Khiisthrasen. You’ve been at this far too long with no results. We need you back here.” The Elder said sternly. His voice became softer but Guy knew it didn’t mean he was being sympathetic. “Your clutch of eggs are beginning to rustle. Loualoua needs you here. Your children need you here. Your clan needs you here. Come back unless you wish to face the consequences.’
“What? No! Wait, elder, I—”
The pressure in his head faded out as fast as it had arrived. His head felt back to normal though his body trembled and shook, dripping with sweat. He felt like he was going to collapse. He sat up, clutching his head with anguish and breathed heavily.
His mind raced as he thought of all the things he would have to leave behind for his glorified prison far across the sea. His possessions, his horde, his fun, his Barry—
His Barry? He wasn’t his. As wrong as he felt it was, he knew Barry wasn’t his. He scowled as he thought of him. He let himself continue to think of Barry and the dragon he clung to.
He thought of Xanathen and smiled as he rolled himself in his sheets. He let the soothing music of the record lull him to sleep. He hadn’t slept that well in ages.
Chapter Nine
“Good work today.” Deryl said as he gave Xanathen a hearty slap on the back.
“Work? I didn’t really do anything,” Xanathen sighed.
“What are you talking about? You did plenty!”
“It wasn’t enough.”
“Don’t tell me you’re already feeling bored.”
“Maybe a little. All the things I do, I’m starting to think they’re nothing compared to what I could be doing.”
“So then let’s do those things!”
Xanathen thought about it for a moment. His mind wandered briefly to the idea of shedding his human facade and revealing his true draconic beauty for all the world to see. He wanted to extend his wings and fly into the sky, attempting to cloak the world in shadow with his wingspan.
Xanathen thought of Barry’s heart-broken frowns and pained looks of broken promises. No matter how wide he could spread his wings, Xanathen knew that would be the reaction that waited for him. The very thought of it put a damper on his spirits.
“…I can’t.” Xanathen grumbled quietly, turning his head to face the setting sun.
“Kinda stupid to bring these things up and not do them.” Deryl replied. “Why can’t you do it? You can tell me. We can make it work.”
“Deryl, no. We wouldn’t be able to make it work. There’s nothing you can do about it.”
“You won’t know if you don’t try.”
“Just believe me. There’s nothing you can do about it,” he shook his head. “I’ll see you later.”
Deryl gave him a swift high five and bid him goodnight as the two went their separate ways.
The baseball field was practically empty except for the wind that rattled the chain link fence. The sand crunched beneath Xanathen’s heavy footsteps. The sky began to turn to a bright shade of scarlet and the winds blew harder.
The field no longer held the same level of excitement it once did. He had longed to finally see this place but it had now become just another location to him. While it was the place where Xanathen was making a success of himself, it no longer felt like the place that fueled his dreams. Instead, the baseball diamond haunted him with dreams of what could be, instead of what he felt his life should actually be. Without Barry to cheer him on, and with the endless
amount of people just cheering what he now saw as a facade, the emptiness of it all sank in.
The sound of a brash horn woke him from his stupor, followed by a muffled musical accompaniment. He woke from his trance and looked up to see an old station wagon in the parking lot. As he tilted his head he could see a familiar face behind the steering wheel.
“Hey! Xanathen!” Guy announced pleasantly as he cranked down the passenger window. “It’s me: Guy. Barry sent me out to pick you up. Hop in.”
Xanathen scowled at the sight of Guy. His friendly smile only made him feel all the more bitter. Something about him brought out his territorial side. He felt like swerving to avoid the car and just walking home. It certainly wasn’t impossible. Still, if Barry asked for it, he rolled his eyes and slammed the door behind him as he climbed inside.
“Nice to see you again.” Guy greeted as he turned down the radio and put the car into drive. “We’re gonna get take-out on the way. That cool with you?”
Xanathen said nothing, he simply sat there coldly, in silence, while staring out the window.
It feels like I see you too often as it is, Xanathen thought to himself.
Whenever he and Barry finally had time alone, Guy managed to slide into the conversation. Whether it was some funny picture Guy had sent or some fascinating tidbit Barry learned from him, it felt like Guy was living with them without paying rent.
“Ha. I know, I know. You probably barely remember me. I’m Guy, Barry’s friend.” Guy chuckled as he pulled into the road. “But you didn’t say anything about the take-out. Menus on the dash. I’m sure you’ll get hungry when you read it.”
Xanathen remained silent, clutching the menu tightly while he glanced over at Guy with trepidation. He seemed so cool and casual as he kept his eyes on the road, bobbing his head in time to the music. He felt uncomfortable with someone who seemed to know so much, yet remained so blasé about it. It felt like dealing with someone who was skilled with a blade but felt more content to keep it hidden. You always knew the sword was there and you knew what he was potentially capable of doing with it, but you were always on edge, thinking that he’d somehow use it on you.
Fluffy-headed cretin, Xanathen thought sourly.
“Hey, buddy, I’ll have you know I work very hard to keep my hair like this,” Guy scolded playfully.
Xanathen’s eyes widened with shock.
Guy turned off the radio as he turned his attention to Xanathen. “I don’t like this song anyways. Am I reading your mind? Bingo, buddy. Now that we’ve established that fact this conversation should go a little smoother.”
The car remained silent, except for the quiet purr of the traffic around them and the coughing of the station wagon engine. Xanathen sat, nearly crushing the menu into a small crumpled up piece of paper in his big hands. He frantically tried to empty his mind but no sooner had he got rid of one thought than another would immediately take its place. Every thought swirling round inside his head gave him a paranoid feeling that he was being examined and he silently begged to have his mind to himself again.
“Here I thought you’d be a bit more talkative. Never meet your heroes, am I right?” Guy chuckled as he stopped at a red light. “I guess I’ll start then. I know you’re a dragon. How do I know this? I’m a dragon, too. Small world right?”
The car lurched forward as the light turned green. Xanathen remained silent while trying desperately to keep his mind empty. It was hard for him to do. His mind was his own sanctuary, the place where he kept his thoughts to himself but that wasn’t the case anymore. His muscles tensed instinctively in preparation. Still, he remained silent as the menu crumpled to nothing and fell to the floor.
“Still nothing? Ugh. Most people want a mind-reader, and then the moment you’re actually a mind-reader it’s all secrets and closed lips,” Guy shook his head. “Alright. I’m game. Hmm. I’m guessing you want proof. Well, I’m very impressed you took down an elder dragon. Especially since you’re only a young whelp. That’s impressive. I’m not just trying to blow smoke up your ass either. Most elders can’t beat other elders. I can only imagine how strong you’re gonna get in the next hundred years or so.”
Xanathen’s muscles eased slightly as his curiosity increased with each sentence Guy spoke. Even if he was a mind-reader it still gave rise to all sorts of questions while only answering a few. He had never had anyone put his accomplishments into context like that. The only other person who knew was Barry, and he only knew what he saw and from what little Xanathen had told him. Xanathen’s interest was piqued.
“I mean, that is if you’re allowed to actually practice your craft,” Guy continued.
“What do you mean?” Xanathen finally spoke up.
“Ah. There we are. A response,” Guy smirked. “Well, let’s be real here. It’s hard to be a dragon among men, yeah? Always keeping it a secret, on the downlow…that’s kinda depressing, isn’t it? It’s forcing you to be someone, something you’re not. Keep that up and what are you? At best: a wingless dragon with meaty fingers. Not much of a dragon, if you want my honest opinion.”
“Hey, wait. What about you?” Xanathen’s gold eyes flickered. “You’re disguised too!”
“You’re right. But I admit, I’m not strong like you,” Guy said. “Potential isn’t wasted by me being here, living among the humans.”
Xanathen felt an odd connection for a moment. It had been centuries since his heritage wasn’t brought into question. Even if he was annoyed just being around Guy, Xanathen felt a sense of relief just having his true nature understood without explanation.
He looked down at his hands at the mention of power and let a soft pink light ebb from his fingertips. The display glowed softly and twisted around itself while Xanathen examined it absentmindedly. He knew it was a natural gift but he felt it was nothing in comparison to his brute strength. The strength of his physical body allowed him to toss things and run with a skill the world never saw. Xanathen’s illusions didn’t move trees or deflect blunt objects. He was a master at fooling people into seeing things that weren’t there and to him that was not real strength.
The light was extinguished as he closed his hands.
“Potential?” Xanathen said. “I mean, sure, I’m strong. But if you’re talking about my magic, it’s just illusions. It doesn’t really do anything.”
“I know. That’s the power of your clan,” Guy said. “Every clan’s got something they’re good at. Fun thing about illusions? If you’re good enough they start becoming real. I’m sure you’ve noticed that, right?”
Xanathen paused as he stared down at the menu, his eyes focusing on the beef ramen bowl. Some of his illusions became, for a moment, completely solid. The menu, no longer a crumpled mess on the floor, now sat untouched in his hands. He often wondered what would happen if he continued to train without hesitation. He contemplated the amount of potential his magic had.
“I’m nothing special,” Guy continued. “But you? You could be off perfecting your craft instead of, you know…doing piddly magic shows? You could be doing something really big. Changing the world even. You can’t change the world with some dinky prestidigitations.
Besides. Wouldn’t it be great to be among your own kind for a change? From what I hear, you’re the last of your clan.”
“Who told you that?” Xanathen snapped.
“You did, silly. Your mind’s just bubbling away in your head. You’re basically tossing your thoughts at me.”
Xanathen simmered for a moment. “I am the last of my clan, yes.”
“Sorry about that. Terrible shame. But…wouldn’t you like to be around other dragons for a change? Sure, they’re not your clan, but they could be—”
“Wait, what are you talking about?” Xanathen’s asked.
They drove on as the sun set, throwing the world into darkness. The reflections of the streetlights danced on the hood of the car, the light strobing gently on their faces. The car seemed to go faster than it was going before, pressing Xan
athen back into his seat while Guy continued to drive.
“Oh there I go again. I got excited and jumped ahead.” Guy ran his hand through his hair with a sheepish laugh. “It happens, y’know? Oh, did you decide on what you want? I usually go for the pork, but—”
“Who can be my clan?” Xanathen asked.
“Right, right,” his smile faded a little. “Xanathen, I wanted to make you an offer. And before you answer, hear me out.”
His left hand held the steering wheel as his right hand snapped out to Xanathen like a hostile spider. His long fingers clamped around Xanathen’s forehead tightly. Xanathen groaned a little and began to pull himself away, waving his arms violently until they went limp. He knew he was supposed to be in the car but his eyes were filled with visions of the sky.
He felt himself soaring through the air with his wings extended. He spiraled through the wisps of clouds above the endless blue sea as land began to draw nearer. Rolling green mountains and hills filled his vision and their natural beauty enticed him to land. The wind whistled past his face while he gracefully danced in the air and made his way to the ground.
The cramps in his wings, so used to being folded up within him, were gone. All of the knots in his body were a thing of the past. Xanathen felt as agile and powerful as he had once felt. It took being in disguise for so long for him to realize how freedom really felt. He wanted to hug himself and never let the feeling go. He swore he would never take the feeling for granted again.
