Dragon Emperor 2: Human to Dragon to God

by Eric Vall

  So, the second was more likely, however crazy that seemed. No less crazy than being transported to another world and turned into a dragon, though.

  I’d been rolling with the punches ever since I came to Inati, so this was another one to just go along with.

  But if I’d actually ended up in the past, that made things a little tricky. Mostly because I didn’t know how my actions would change the future and my present.

  Ugh, time travel was such a mindfuck.

  I shook my head and refocused on the man in front of me. One thing at a time.

  “My name is Evan,” I said with a dip of my head. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Tristan.”

  “Well met, Evan,” my grandfather replied formally, but he hadn’t dropped his sword, and his eyes were still narrowed in suspicion. “Do not think I have not noticed you evaded my second question. This is the last chance I’m giving you to answer. How did you enter the sacred catacombs?”

  I opened my mouth to respond but then bit my lip. What could I possibly say? The truth? Was that … allowed? No one had prepped me on the proper etiquette of time travel. Would I change the past and irrevocably fuck up the future?

  Unless, and this was a long shot, maybe I got thrown back into the past for a reason, and maybe my presence here wouldn’t be that much of an issue. I’d ended up in the world of Inati for a reason, so I needed to think I was back in the past for a reason, too. I just had to remember to be careful with my words so I wouldn’t change anything in the future.

  But was that the right choice? I could possibly save lives by being here, all depending on how far back in time I was.

  “That’s because I’m from the future,” I finally blurted when I realized my thoughts were going in circles. “I don’t know what happened, and I don’t have any answers for you. But I can promise you I am not your enemy nor the enemy of Hatra. I carry the blood of Hatra el Shamash just as you do. This is my home.”

  “From the future?” Tristan lowered the sword and tilted his head as he looked at me. “I’d believe that of a Sage. But you don’t look anything like one nor do you seem to have a talisman that would allow you to travel through time.”

  Well, that was fair. I didn’t want to look like an eccentric old hermit anyways, and I probably looked like a random young lord.

  “It wasn’t my power.” I shrugged as I wondered what brought me back in time a thousand years. “I was searching for something, and then power swirled all around me. The next thing I knew, I had a sword point to my back.”

  Tristan stared at me for several long moments before all wariness disappeared from his face and stance.

  “Perhaps you triggered a spell by accident,” Tristan sighed as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “How far into the future?”

  I was a little surprised at how readily my grandfather accepted what I said, but then I remembered this was a world of magic. A little time travel was probably mundane for him.

  So, I tried to think of a point of reference, but unfortunately timelines hadn’t been discussed in my meager one time lesson. I hadn’t been too worried about that since time travel had obviously not been on my schedule, but there had to be some point of reference I could use to figure out just how far back I was.

  Wait a minute, I knew how long Valerra had been in the Crimson Canyons.

  “The Crimson Dragon has lived in the canyons for over three thousand years,” I replied carefully as I watched Tristan’s face for a reaction.

  “Three thousand years?” Tristan’s brow furrowed, and a muscle in his jaw twitched. “The Crimson Dragon has only been in the canyons for two thousand years … so that must mean you’re from at least a thousand years in the future.”

  “Did you say a thousand years?” My blood pounded in my ears as my claws dug into the palms of my hands. “I’m back in time a thousand years?”

  War drums echoed inside of me as I realized I’d been thrown back to before Hatra was destroyed by demons. I didn’t know how much time I had before the city was ravaged, if it was hours or if we had days to prepare.

  There was no way I was just going to sit around and wait for my city to be destroyed, though. Fuck the timeline. I didn’t care what kind of temporal loop I might end up stuck in if I messed with the past, my city and my people were more important.

  “You look pale, as if you’ve seen a ghost.” Tristan slipped the sword into its sheath and placed his hand on my shoulder.

  “You have no idea,” I muttered as I could feel the hint of a stress headache forming behind my eyes, and I couldn’t help the bitter laugh that escaped me.

  There was some cosmic irony at play here. Tristan wondered if I’d seen a ghost, but he was the ghost to me. He was long dead, along with most of the city of Hatra and my people.

  “Tell me, how is Hatra in the future?” Tristan smiled as his eyes glittered with curiosity. “How great has our city become? What of the Asuras in the forest, have they finally come out of seclusion and shared their smithing talents with the world?”

  I faltered at the excitement I saw on Tristan’s face. How could I tell him Hatra fell? And while the Asuras did come out of the forest, it was only after they’d been massacred?

  “Hatra has lost all … ” I trailed off and tried to find the words to explain the tragedy that had happened.

  “What do you mean Hatra lost? Lost all what?” Tristan asked as his brow furrowed in confusion. “What happened to our city?”

  “Hatra was destroyed by demons,” I growled as the drums of war still echoed inside of my head, and my blood pounded furiously. “They destroyed everything within the city, leaving only ruins and crumbling walls. For a thousand years, miasma attacked the survivors until only a hundred or so of our people remained.”

  “That couldn’t have happened,” Tristan protested with a shake of his head, even as shock grew in his emerald eyes. “Hatra is protected by the blessings of the Moon Princess. There’s no way demons would have been able to even breach the city’s barrier, let alone make it to the walls.”

  “And yet it did happen.” I gritted my teeth in anger as I remembered the first time I’d seen my city in its ruined state. “The walls of Hatra fell, and it was only just now, in my present, that the city has started to rebuild.”

  “If the walls of Hatra fell,” Tristan muttered slowly as he paced in front of me, “then that means the attacking force must have been a legion. Or possibly worse.”

  “How much worse?” I hadn’t considered the amount of demons that would have attacked Hatra or their level. “A legion of demons would be devastating alone.”

  “You don’t know what happened that day?” Tristan asked in surprise as he stopped pacing to lean against a nearby wall. “Were there no records left of the attack? What about those who survived the attack?”

  “Only stories passed down by the Elders.” I shook my head and rubbed the back of my neck. “There is no one living from that night.”

  I’d pretty much just told Tristan that even if he survived the demon’s attack, he wouldn’t be alive a thousand years from now. Ruslan was an even eight hundred, so the longest Tristan would have survived after Hatra’s fall was two hundred years.

  “What about the memories of the Sword?” Tristan motioned to the sword on his hip and then to the statues all around us. “If the bloodline of Hatra has continued on through you, then the memories would have been in the Sword. The Sword of Hatra carries the memories and experiences of all the Lords and Ladies who have borne the burden of ruling our city. As an heir to this bloodline, you must have some knowledge of what happened if you or one of your parents wielded the Sword.”

  “The Sword has never been seen since that night,” I replied as I thought about how useful the knowledge inside of the Sword would have been for all of us. “I was searching the archives for some sort of clue as to what happened to it, and then I was here, back in time a thousand years.”

  “From terrible to worse,” Tristan groaned as he covered
his face with his hands. “To think our Hatra will fall within my lifetime.” He shook his head and then looked up at me with a spark of hope in his emerald eyes. “Still, you are proof there is still hope. Even if Hatra falls as you say she will, our people will still survive.”

  “I will do whatever it takes to lessen the casualties.” It was a promise that, while it would be difficult to keep, I would push myself to the limit to fulfill. “I got thrown back in time for a reason, it wasn’t just a fluke.”

  “Then we must start preparing.” Tristan stepped forward to the center of the hall and motioned for me to stand next to him. “Watch carefully in case you never learned this.”

  “Learned what?” I asked as I joined him and tilted my head in curiosity.

  “How to send messages using your power.” Tristan extended his hand, and white flames flickered into existence. “Focus your power in your hand, don’t give it any shape yet, just let it exist outside of you without any command being given to it.”

  “Any power is fine?” I asked as I glanced between Tristan’s white fire and my empty palm. “Does it have to be fire, or can it be something else?”

  “No, it doesn’t have to be,” Tristan mused, but then he considered me curiously. “Am I right to assume you haven’t been taught how to control fire?”

  “Not yet,” I laughed. “My pops hasn’t had time to teach me. There’s been a lot going on.”

  As I focused on drawing up my healing power, I realized it had trouble rising to the surface, but I didn’t know why. What I wouldn’t give for a magical search engine. That would make learning about this new world a breeze, and maybe the royalties could bring in a nice income for Hatra.

  Not that we would need the money with all of the treasures buried underneath the city. Hmm, how much would dragon scales sell for, too? They had to be pretty rare, if not legendary items, and would have the appropriate price tag.

  “Pops?” Tristan echoed as he pulled me from my dragon hoarding thoughts. “How old are you, Evan?”

  “I’m twenty-five,” I replied. “A bit young, probably, compared to almost everyone, but I’m a blooded warrior. I’ve already fought and bled to protect Hatra. I would do it again in an instant, too.”

  “You’re so young.” Pain flashed in Tristan’s emerald eyes before they shifted to melancholy. “You have an entire lifetime ahead of you. I wish I would be able to see how much glory you’ll bring to our people. Our city will rise up again so long as the essence and blood of Hatra exists, and that is in you.”

  “I won’t let you down.” A glittering swirl of power rose up in my hand as I smirked. “Hatra fell once, but she will never fall again.”

  “I will hold you to that.” Tristan smirked back as the white flames in his hands jumped to the floor. “Focus on a form, the one most comfortable for your mind, and let your power take that shape. Loosen your control over it, and your power will mold itself and follow your wishes.”

  A small fox made entirely out of white fire appeared in front of us and bowed its head before it sat on the marble floor. I could hear the hum of magic and power that ran through the small beast of flame. If I kept my eyes on the point just behind it and let my vision go out of focus, I could see the way magic coursed through the fox and the way it had been molded to bring the creature to life.

  I glanced back at my own hand and smirked. The shape my messenger would take was obvious. It was going to be a dragon. How could it be anything else?

  I loosened my control over my power and just let it flow through me. Then I focused on the idea of my power serving as a messenger for me. It would be my voice and spread the information I wanted.

  A moment later, my magic surged through me, and I inhaled sharply at the result. Right before my eyes formed a crystalline and glimmering kaleidoscope dragon that sniffed at the white fox.

  “I did it!” I exclaimed with a broad grin.

  “How curious.” Tristan tilted his head as he looked between the tiny dragon and my face. “The messengers are almost always foxes, though that isn’t the rule. But there has never been a dragon to my knowledge. I was right to think there’s more than meets the eye with you, Evan.”

  “I really like dragons and the idea of flying.” I lifted my shoulders in a casual shrug as I bit down on my cheek. “So, what’s the message, and who are you going to send it to?”

  I trusted Tristan, but I didn’t think he would take my being a dragon so easily. I was worried he would think I was a threat instead.

  “To the members of my council,” Tristan said as he turned his eyes from me to the small white fox. “The city needs to be put on full alert immediately and prepare for an attack at any notice. Not to mention, I need to warn His Eminence.”

  I released my control over the kaleidoscopic dragon and let it fade away, since Tristan was going to take care of informing everyone. Besides, they would probably be weirded out by seeing a tiny dragon out of nowhere, sent from someone they didn’t know.

  “Why warn?” I furrowed my brow at the thought and remembered Hatra had received no aid the night the city had been destroyed. “Are you going to ask the King for aid? Would they even reach the city in time?”

  Tristan looked at me oddly for a moment before understanding filled his bright emerald eyes. He turned back to look at the white fox and nodded at it before it went running off through the walls.

  “As a Noble of the Sword,” Tristan explained as he walked toward the doors, “it is my duty to warn the king of any dangers. I exist to protect both Hatra and Rahma. If there’s something dangerous heading toward our city, if I cannot stop it and aid will not arrive in time, then it is my duty to contain it. No matter the price to me.”

  “It stops at Hatra.” I followed after Tristan, and anger coursed through me as I understood his words. “Whatever the danger, it cannot spread to the rest of Rahma.”

  “Exactly.” Tristan nodded as he opened the doors. “Now, let us head to the Lunar Palace. My council will have already begun preparations for the impending battle.”

  “How strong are Hatra’s armies?” I asked as I followed my grandfather out of the catacombs. “How much of an onslaught can they withstand?”

  “Hatra’s armies are a hundred thousand strong,” Tristan replied as he led me through the hallways of the underground archive easily. “With time, we could probably muster another fifty thousand from the forces stationed at our nearby vassal villages, but I doubt any of them would be able to make it in time. They are more than a day’s ride from the city walls.”

  I fell silent at that because I’d heard no mention of those vassal villages in my future. It was obvious they’d been slaughtered and stood no chance against the demons. Even if they survived the initial attack, they would have even less of a chance surviving the attacks from the miasma over the next thousand years.

  Unless, and this was a bit of a stretch, the descendants of those villages were the bandits who had traded with Hatra before they were manipulated by the miasma. Their twisted sort of loyalty to the city and the way they’d attacked traveling caravans and other villages as a way to get back at the country that had seemingly abandoned them would make sense.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see scholars walking through the archives with scrolls in hand as they whispered to each other. I could pick up their discussions easily with my enhanced hearing, but their conversations went over my head. They were talking about things like self maintaining temporal loops and shrinking the power constraints of multilayered runic circles.

  “Don’t fall behind now,” Tristan laughed as he looked over his shoulder at me. “It’s a maze down here. I once got lost down here for days as a child all because I was hiding from my tutors.”

  “Yeah, I can believe that.” A deep sigh left my lips as I remembered just how confusing the setup of the underground library was. “This place is immense. It’s been a month since we’ve found it in my time, and we still haven’t been able to fully map it out. We’ve fo
und the catalogue that listed all of the books and a majority of the artifacts stored in the cavernous space, but my mother’s team keeps finding more rooms and artifacts.”

  “The archives have many secrets.” Tristan grinned slyly at me before he nodded further down the passageway. “One of which we’re heading to. If we had more time, and Hatra wasn’t about to be attacked, I’d show you more of them.”

  We picked up the pace, and we quickly arrived at an archway imbedded in the walls of the library and made out of pure moonstone. A glittering golden magical array drifted within the doorway it made.

  “Do you remember the path here?” Tristan tapped his fingers on the hilt of his Sword as he looked at me. “This archway is just like the entrance to the catacombs. Only those who bear our sigil or the blood of Hatra may pass through here.”

  “Yeah, photographic memory.” I smirked as I tapped the side of my head. “Once I see something, I never forget it.”

  Tristan hummed in thought for a moment before he smiled at me. “That is quite useful. Now, let’s go.”

  We stepped through the archway, and as the power in the air all around me sang in delight, I could feel as my own magic rose up to meet it.

  “That was amazing!” I laughed as I turned to look at the archway we had stepped through. “It felt like I was being welcomed home or something.”

  “You are home,” Tristan replied as he continued walking. “The Lunar Palace has always been the home of the Lords of Hatra. This is your home.”

  In front of me was a long hallway with exquisitely carved windows along one wall that looked out onto a courtyard. Beyond the courtyard, I could see carefully kept gardens and more ornate buildings.

  Something pricked my senses, and I carefully glanced around to see what it was that reached out to me. It was as if I’d been asleep in a garden and a ray of light had gently caressed my forehead, that was the only way I could explain it.

  Then I saw her, a woman walking down a different hallway that intersected with the same hall we were walking down.