by Noah Harris
“So across the sea is a clan of dragons. My clan, to be specific,” Guy’s voice delicately weaved its way through the world and into Xanathen’s head, comfortably talking to him in his thoughts.
When he slunk along the ground he swung his tail as wildly and as openly as he could. He caught a glimpse of faded brass beginning to emerge. Fellow dragons lifted their heads from the shadows on long, craning necks and looked at him with round eyes filled with admiration.
He trotted forward, faster now that he was among fellow dragons, their circle opened wide to receive him warmly. He felt his heart grow giddy as the fellow dragons around him grew close and roared out in welcome, some even inviting him nonverbally to spar. His entire being swelled with pride as the elder dragons in the distance looked down at him with a regal stare and smiled with acceptance.
He bound across the land with the long, elegant creatures, joining in their swift gallop as they playfully nipped at each other. The air around him filled with the sound of grunts and roars erupting from every dragon.
“They’ve been waiting for me for quite some time. I’m a bit of a hero to them. But I’m no hero. I admit, I gave up my lust for home a long time ago.” Guy said. “That’s where you come in. You can live with them. Be with fellow dragons. Live the life you’re supposed to.”
Xanathen could feel the grass pressed under his scaly back as he tossed himself backwards and let the sun warm his soft underbelly. The other dragons circled him and continuously welcomed him. The air smelled sweet, like an intoxicating elixir. He felt numb to everything else that existed in the world.
“It’s simple, really. I can easily show you how to get there,” Guy said. “You, with your illusory talents, can just go in my place. It’s not ideal, but stay with them for a while and I know they’ll accept you as one of their own. My clan aren’t fighters. Prove your worth and you’ll be forgiven for the initial charade. That’ll be an easy job for you.”
Xanathen continued to wriggle on the soft grass until a sudden thought sent him shooting forward in his seat and jettisoned him out of the beguiling thoughts. He was back in Guy’s car. Guy’s hand still held tight to Xanathen’s forehead and moved with him.
“I can’t do that,” Xanathen said. “What about Barry?”
Xanathen felt his eyes roll back into his head and the vision faded to a foggy white. He felt like he was hanging in complete nothingness, floating in the ether. His vision flooded with images of he and Barry together, flooding past him rapidly. It began at the beginning, on the tropical isle he once called home.
“I know you love Barry. I’ll never doubt that,” Guy said. “But look at all of this and maybe you’ll notice it too.”
On the white shores of the beach Xanathen and Barry were all alone and seemed happy. Time appeared to streak by. They lay in each other’s arms for hours. They laughed and embraced each other with wild abandon. Of course Xanathen noticed that they were happier when they were together on the island, away from society. But the visions grew more rapid and he gasped quietly as he noticed one other little thing. The faster the visions flew by, the more he noticed the small wistful sighs as Barry looked out over the sea. He noticed the forlorn looks as he thought about his home.
He remembered how he tried so hard with his magic, sloppily trying to recreate the world Barry knew, trying to make him feel more comfortable. His body ached when he thought of the amount of magic he had controlled just to bring a smile to Barry’s lips, knowing in the end it wasn’t enough. He almost gagged as he thought of Barry choosing to sail the ocean alone, trying to get home.
“Take it from someone who’s been there,” Guy said. “You can love something or someone that’s not right for you.”
The fight with the elder dragon flashed by but Xanathen paid it no heed. The heavy realization was weighing on his mind, holding him down. He had attempted to keep Barry prisoner. Barry wasn’t meant for a life among dragons.
His mind flipped to thoughts of life in the city among the humans, flooded with memories of the loving embraces and playful banter. All of the sweet kisses couldn’t block out the empty feeling of being stuck home alone for so long, in a world that wouldn’t understand him. Despite wanting to understand it he knew he never would, and the world would never understand him. All of the love they had for each other couldn’t get rid of the tainted memories that continued to assault him.
“Both of you are from different worlds. You both want different things in life. And that’s okay,” Guy said. “You can’t give yourself to someone if you’re not a whole person. You can take your experiences and move on. Learn. Grow. But don’t stay somewhere that’s not right for you.’
All the frustrations, the fights, the aggravation came to a head. All Xanathen could see was the anger both himself and Barry had felt. He remembered how stupidly he had acted, his own pride causing so much grief. No matter what he or Barry did, the other would ultimately suffer, one way or another. He looked at the visions with tear-stricken eyes, but no matter how tightly he closed them the memories continued to fly past. He felt himself tremble and gave a loud shout, clawing at his own eyes.
Suddenly he was back in the car again. The images had stopped. There was just the parking lot of a take-out Thai restaurant, the murky beachside, and Guy. Guy’s smile had faded a little but seemed more genuine than before. He had a knowing look as he patted Xanathen on the shoulder. Xanathen’s chest heaved as he stared down at his feet where the crumpled menu was. He grabbed it and looked it over.
The world felt still, just for a moment. There was a bit of clarity, as cruel as it was. Xanathen closed his eyes tight, held back his tears and gathered himself together.
“Hey. Know what you want?” Guy asked.
“…Yeah,” he replied as he pointed to the menu.
It had been a long day on the base for Barry. It was filled with seemingly endless drills and tests, making sure he was in peak physical condition and that his know-how of flying was still at its top. When he wasn’t actually doing his job it seemed like his job was just being tested for how well he would do off base. No matter how well he proved he could do it he would be asked to show how good he was until the day he failed, it seemed.
His body ached a little when he swung open the apartment door. His mind raced to think of all the things he’d need to take care of, like what to make for dinner, doing the laundry and so on. They were all incredibly mundane things that made him groan.
He was sure he would be bombarded with tales of what happened with Deryl, and all the escapades of the baseball field. Maybe he managed to make a fire as big as the field this time and all the people online were yammering about how real it seemed. Barry braced himself for it, though he honestly did look forward to Xanathen’s enthusiasm. At the end of the day he knew he felt Xanathen’s unbridled passion was endearing and he wished he had that kind of energy.
The apartment was completely silent. He scanned the dark room and flicked on the lights. So much for Xanathen’s stories. He must still have been out and about. Barry was a little disappointed but he dropped his things on the table and made himself comfortable.
He had grown used to the emptiness of the apartment at some point. Some nights Xanathen wouldn’t come home till late and then he’d be dying to share his day. Roaring with laughter, he would gently shake Barry awake to tell him all the incredible things he’d done. Barry felt a creeping sickness in his stomach. He wasn’t a superstitious guy but for some reason something felt off. This didn’t feel like a regular quiet home alone evening, though he couldn’t put his finger on what exactly was wrong.
Barry waited patiently for something, anything, and watched TV to keep himself occupied. He didn’t know what he was expecting and he had no reason to be on the watch for anything specific, except there was that nauseous feeling in the pit of his stomach that hinted something was wrong. He wasn’t going to listen to it. It was just another typical night. He decided to let Xanathen have his fun.
Hou
rs rolled by until it was very late and Barry felt himself growing weary. He shook off the uncomfortable paranoia still sitting in his guts and filed the evening away as just a bad end to the day. He made his way to the bedroom to get ready for bed.
He turned on the lights and his eyebrows rose as he found a pile of crumpled papers surrounding the bed. One sheet of paper lay neatly in the center. Barry approached the bed, his stomach sinking like a ton of lead and the earlier feeling of dread returned with a vengeance.
He investigated the crumpled mass of discarded papers first. They were all covered in scrawled, mad scribbles of ink. He could make out some of the letters but not enough to piece together a coherent sentence. He felt himself tense up as he sat down on the edge of the bed and read the only legible note.
Dear Barry,
I’m sorry.
You’re a man. I’m a dragon. We have different needs in life.
If I waited for you to get home, you would have talked me into staying. We’d be good for a while and then we’d just get upset again. You need someone who can agree with your way of living. I’ve made you miserable for a long time. You deserve better.
Despite everything, I will always have the fondest memories of you and hold you close to my heart. Thank you for coming into my life. Thank you for introducing me to this wild new world. I just know I’m not meant to be a part of it.
I will love you forever.
Goodbye.
Xanathen
The note trembled in Barry’s hands as he held it. The letters began to smudge and became illegible as his tears splattered onto the paper. He felt drained, completely empty as he crumpled the paper tightly in his hands.
Barry felt he should have seen this coming. He was surprised it didn’t happen sooner, but it still threw him off guard. He had hoped it would never happen.
He melted into the blankets and cradled the nearest pillow, burying his face in it. For hours he sobbed into the sheets, starting at the slightest noise outside, but the doors never swung open. He didn’t hear anything from anyone except the echo of that silent goodbye.
Chapter Ten
The sound of the heavy rain pattering against the glass filled the entire penthouse with a state of calm. Guy looked out at the expansive city, his silver gray eyes matching the hue of the looming clouds that hung right over the buildings and bled out into the streets. He swiveled the glass perched in his thin fingers and gazed out letting the serene moment sink in. The consistent flow of raindrops accompanied the scratchy record that played in the living room.
He felt a state of serenity he could safely say he had never experienced before. There was a liberated sensation that ran through him. Freedom didn’t fill him with boundless energy though. To him it felt more like a gentle wind blowing through open windows. He felt he was the same man he had always been except there were no more nagging worries or doubts lurking in the back of his mind.
There was at least one thought that still bothered him, and it would occasionally disrupt the quiet moments. Sometimes a single thought, one that he had shackled up in the deepest recesses of his mind, would somehow claw its way out and torment him. It was guilt. A feeling that made his skin crawl. Guy’s mind would wander to a whelp with black scales and glittering gold eyes. He would think about it in the dark of the night when he rolled into bed and knew he wouldn’t get any sleep that night.
Guy wouldn’t be beaten so easily, though. He found that these thoughts apparently couldn’t stand the aroma of wine. Whenever another of the insidious ideas crept in to throttle his head he would gracefully shuffle into the kitchen and pour himself a glass. He’d breathe in the aroma and savor the taste slowly so he could feel the guilt-ridden thoughts fizzle out temporarily, followed by the sound of the gentle moan of the soothing winds of peace once again.
The buzzer rang, followed by the front door swinging open. Barry ambled in dragging his feet and immediately helped himself to the couch. He nearly imitated Guy’s carefree flop, as he fell to the leather and let the air escape from under him.
Guy smiled as he slowly rose, not to greet Barry, who had been into his apartment so much in the past couple of months that it was no surprise to him anymore, but, rather, to check the spiraling vine of bottles that hung on the wall.
Barry stared blankly at the ceiling. He had grown familiar with the collection that claimed the room and even knew most of the stories that went with them. The room that had once seemed so enormous with its expansive collection of oddities, shrank with the growing feeling of familiarity. He no longer wondered how anyone could live like this, or pondered why anyone would keep so many things, but greeted each collectable like an old acquaintance.
Guy walked in with two glasses filled to the brim and an uneven smile. He held a glass specifically for himself and extended the other to Barry.
“No thanks,” Barry said.
Guy shrugged and left the glass nearby in one of the few remaining empty spaces. It may be for the best that Barry didn’t drink this one, he concluded. It had a slightly bitter aftertaste. While Guy adored the nuances of a good glass of wine with different flavorful subtleties, Barry preferred something that tasted the same the whole drink through.
“You seem to be in good spirits,” Guy said in between sips.
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“Well, your thoughts aren’t all over the place today.”
“Are you reading my mind again?”
“No, that’s my point,” Guy said. “Lately your thoughts have been so loud I had to purposely ignore them. Today you seem more…at ease.”
“Oh.” Barry said simply as he finally reached out for the glass of wine.
He stared down at the crimson liquid as he contemplated that thought solemnly.
Barry felt somewhat surreal about the statement. Had it really been so long that Barry no longer felt the need to mourn Xanathen’s leaving? It felt almost like an eternity to him. Every little thing around the apartment drove Barry to tears, reminding him of Xanathen.
Xanathen had left all of his clothes behind, complete with his familiar aroma. The first month or so Barry clung to the shirts burying his face in them when he tried to sleep. Time went by and the shirts remained untouched in the drawers. Barry had even begun considering donating them back to the thrift store.
The apartment became less lonely. The wallowing and pain was replaced with going out and visiting Guy. The visits didn’t make him feel completely better, but every little bit helped. Whenever they went out to walk around the beach or investigate some new area, even just staying in for an evening and shooting the breeze, it took his mind off his misery.
As the pain decreased it was amazing how peaceful everything was. There were the moments of occasional grief but he had gotten back into the groove of being a bachelor.
The part that still nagged him was Xanathen making the choice to just walk out. Barry still wondered if it was somehow his fault, or was it all Xanathen’s, or in fact maybe it wasn’t anyone’s fault at all. It had been discussed over glasses of wine at Guy’s, complete with used tissues and pouring out their hearts.
Barry thought about it and felt he wouldn’t have gotten this far without Guy. Sometimes Barry would lie in bed alone and roll around, wallowing in his own grief. Guy, however, would insist Barry should at least do something, no matter how small. Guy was the shoulder Barry relied on and the simple grin that would bring momentary joy back in Barry’s life. Guy always seemed to have a comforting grip on things.
Barry would sit alone in the apartment and his thoughts began to turn. His heart used to ache for Xanathen. Slowly with each moment that passed, the thoughts of Xanathen began to fade and thoughts of Guy began to fill their place. Barry would drift off to sleep thinking of his smile and how he’d like to run his hands through his thick wavy hair. Barry was lulled into a state of comfort when he thought of Guy’s playful laugh. The thoughts that had first plagued him in Guy’s apartment were now greeted in his head with denial.
Each day that Guy guided Barry through his grief he accepted these thoughts a little more.
The teasing daydreams of being embraced by Guy simmered inside of Barry, and gave him moments of joy. It was just a harmless crush. As long as he didn’t think about it around Guy it was perfectly fine. There was no harm in a slight infatuation with a friend. He had never been single and open with his attraction towards men before. It was almost exciting to think of other men as sexy without worrying about the consequences. He exercised this part of him until he felt more comfortable about it. It no longer felt like some odd thing dumped in his lap that he was forced to deal with but instead was becoming part of who he was.
The one fantasy that returned time and time again always started with Guy’s impish grin and his tempting voice. Barry would dismiss those thoughts as soon as Guy was in earshot. He was happy enough to have him just as a friend.
“I guess I have been more at ease lately,” Barry said. “I hadn’t really thought of it.”
“That’s natural,” Guy said. “You don’t just wake up happy one day. It’s a process.”
“Makes sense…It feels nice.”
“Glad you’re feeling better.”
“Well, I wouldn’t feel this way if it weren’t for you. I know I’ve said it before, but thank you. Thanks for everything.”
“Of course. What are friends for?” Guy said as he flashed his signature smile.
Guy’s words echoed in Barry’s head with a deafening sadness. Barry expected it, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.
Friends. Of course, Barry let his thoughts slip for just a second.
He tensed and straightened up as he realized that he had just let that thought out loud. He nervously gulped his glass of wine as he tried to clear his mind. His eyes glanced over to Guy sitting nonchalantly on the opposite couch, still with a half-full glass of wine in his hand. Guy didn’t even look at Barry as the wine seemed to capture his attention more. If Barry kept a calm mind Guy would keep his prying abilities to himself.
