by Max Andren
We were surrounded by dense trees and near the edge of a crystal clear lake. The earthy scent of new vegetation was intoxicating and was carried on a warm spring breeze. The wooded area was lush with cedar, white oak, elm, hickory and walnut trees, as well as those stupid locust trees and bushes with their needle-like thorns.
Cipriano and I had traveled to the Ozarks multiple times to find the right location for sanctuary. I was looking for an area that resembled the prophetic vision Dreah had shared with me years ago. We knew it would be difficult to find, though not impossible.
Once we narrowed the choices to three possibilities, we’d brought the family along to get their opinions. I wanted to see if any of them resonated with Dreah or felt similar to her vision. This area had not been one of the three choices.
Violet had led us here.
Today we’d driven the three hours to the Ozarks so that Dreah could accompany us. Once we were in a secluded location, she was placed upon the back of Tarrin’s dragon.
Usually we travelled from Kansas City to the Ozarks disguised as large birds. This enabled us to hide in plain site preventing normals, humans without magic, from recognizing what we were when they looked to the skies above.
We were still in dragon form, just a smaller version, like my hatchling, though not quite that small. From a distance we resembled birds. .
I’d never forget the first time I shifted. Stressed over Mia fading, I’d recklessly thrown myself into that pool of power running through my dragon essence. I’d shifted into a hatchling small enough to fit in Cipriano’s palm. I’d remained that way for hours because I couldn’t shift back to my human form—I didn’t know how.
It was fairly comical, especially when I’d spontaneously shift hours later. Naked and oblivious, I sat on the great room floor laughing until Isabella pointed out that I was sans clothes!
It was one of my favorite memories, despite being naked in front of everyone. Ian had placed his warm jacket around my shoulders and I’d left the room with my head held high.
Now that my Phoenix had been fully realized, I’d learned the in-and-outs of shifting to a more proper sized dragon. It was extremely useful, however, to have the ability to choose the size I wanted to be, depending on the situation. Or, I could just shift into my shadowed form, especially if stealth was needed.
I loved my little hatchling, as she represented where I’d been. I still feel like that little hatchling at times—confused and so unsure of myself and my place within this new world I was navigating.
“This is a beautiful spot and well away from normals,” I commented to the family, once they joined us.
“Yes,” Cipriano replied, “But close enough for shopping and supplies.”
This particular spot felt like the right one.
“Dreah, what do you think of this area?”
When I looked in her direction, she nodded her head and replied, “If ever there was a place for the dragons to come together and be lasting—this would be the place.”
That was several years ago and now we lived in the Ozarks full-time, though we still maintained the estate in Kansas City. We spent the intervening years planning, creating, and implementing my dream for sanctuary.
Fortunately, Cipriano had amassed a fortune over the centuries, so money wasn’t a concern. However, before we started notifying various dragon clans about our Lake of the Ozarks sanctuary, we wanted everything to be in readiness.
We had no way of knowing how many dragons would eventually join us, but we would be prepared in any case. We owned a lot of land and could build as many homes as were needed. Plus, there were caves everywhere throughout this area and the Interior Highlands, so there should be plenty of options.
Sanctuary was located far enough out of the way, that I wasn’t too worried about the normals who lived locally. However, I was worried about detection by our enemies. Once word began to spread, there would be no way to keep our location a secret, even though we would try. After all, it was in our best interest to be secreted away from the drampires—a dream and an impossibility, that much I knew.
Sometimes, it’s less painful not to dream at all.
4
Cipriano and I had reached out to the Ames de la Terra, or Souls of the Earth, for guidance in creating our Lake of the Ozarks sanctuary. They were a peaceable group of supernaturals located in Louisiana, outside of Rouen and throughout the Bisou Islands.
We wanted to emulate what they’d created for their brethren in the islands. There were various supernaturals living there, all in harmony and without strife—something we wanted for our culture. But, with the realization there were other supernatural creatures, every time I turned around, one would be waving their metaphorical hand at me in greeting.
There was so much to learn about this new world and where I fit in to its hierarchy.
Vampires existed, and they were blood-sucking and allergic to sunlight, though I’d seen a few that could tolerate diffused light. I’d also seen wolf and cat shifters, and witch familiars. And from what Violet had told me, Faery really did exist, though she wouldn’t elaborate beyond the confirmation that it was real.
Cipriano told me that there were two camps in regards to the supernatural world. Those that believed normals were expendable and those who believed they were to be protected. It was obvious which camp the dragons and the drampires belonged to.
Drampires killed normals and my dragon brethren indiscriminately to feed their diabolic cravings for immortality. They had zero regard for human life or magical beings. Cipriano thought drampires could belong to a secret order of supernaturals called the Principes Noctis or the Rulers of the Night.
The Principes believed that normals were less than animals and should be treated as such. The Ministry governed all Principes and was founded by a leadership of nine supernaturals. They would stop at nothing to force normals to bow down before them in supplication.
Evil couldn’t exist without its opposition and that was represented by the Ames. They’d been forced into combat with the Principes in order to protect normals.
At first, I’d thought we could relocate to Rouen and join the Ames de la Terra’s fight against the Ministry, however based upon various scenarios I’d seen in Dreah’s vision, I knew we needed to move to the Ozarks. Its lush terrain would be the perfect place to develop a dragon colony.
Shortly after we arrived to live at sanctuary full-time, we were surprised to have a small group of witches ask to join us. They sought peace and refuge from magical persecution. They told us that they ascribed to a different philosophy than their fellow witches and were forced to leave their coven.
That was the only explanation that was offered.
The Ames had vouched for the three of them and that was enough for me.
We welcomed them to sanctuary and it was fortunate that we did. The three witches, Dusky, Lyan, and their leader, Kestrel, have been incredibly helpful. They created a magical shield that deterred detection by normals.
When the locals approached the shield surrounding sanctuary, they would forget why they’d driven out of town in the first place and would turn around to go home. Unlike the dark magic used by drampires, the witches used a magical shield that made normals forget, rather than use repulsion and fear—white magic versus dark.
I was thankful they’d come to join us and for multiple reasons. The three witches, plus Isabella, Dreah, and I, were becoming extremely close. They adored Dreah and could teach her things that the family couldn’t—like witchy things. Plus, they knew all about birthing children and that was our ultimate dream, to start the next generation of dragons here at sanctuary.
Now that all was ready, we just needed to convince the centuries-old clans to come to sanctuary. Relocation and renascence of the dragons was my first priority; whether I was up to the task was another thing altogether. Regardless of my doubts, Cipriano and I put a call out to the clans hoping to unite them in purpose.
It was disheartening to re
alize that the dragon race was a fraction of what it used to be. With drampires killing mates, dragons were losing their ability to procreate. We had to find a way to protect the mated couples, along with the rest of the dragon race.
We hoped the premise of safety in numbers would resonate with the leaders and they’d bring their clansmen, as well as their mated dragons, here to sanctuary—no more hiding.
Dreah’s prophetic vision was the impetus for all my actions. I foresaw various scenarios played out within her mind. Some of these potential outcomes were unspeakably horrific. I would do whatever was necessary to ensure that the dragon clans survived the drampires’ obsessive thirst for immortality.
The genocide had to be stopped before the dragon race was decimated to the point of extinction.
As a result, I felt a huge responsibility upon my shoulders, given I was, the supposed, last true Phoenix. But demons of doubt continually plagued my mind. It was hard to release those old feelings of worthlessness, but I tried—daily!
There was an influx of dragon leaders, coming and going from sanctuary, as we solidified plans for their relocation. They all conveyed their desire and willingness to work together to find a resolution to the drampire threat.
But nothing ever went as planned, no matter how well orchestrated and, actions spoke eloquently, where words were cheap.
5
Dragon clans from around the world were slowly migrating to the Ozarks and our sanctuary was steadily growing. We were a strong race, with unique and varied magical abilities, but from what Cipriano had told me, we were a culture that kept to itself.
My hope was to bring them back together as one united clan. If they were all in one central location, perhaps the dragons would feel protected and would be able to flourish and perhaps deliver a new generation of dragons. They had been living separately and scattered across the world for more centuries than imaginable, but that was changing.
Times change and we must change with them—or die. As such, this was a learning process for all of us. Regardless of how uncomfortable it proved to be, change was necessary—dire even.
Drampires had always coveted our immortality and would stop at nothing to have it, including genocide.
I was fairly new to the dragon culture and the concept of dragons working together was new to them. We would navigate this new inception together. Although there would be growing pains, we must put our culture ahead of our own preferences. But this concept would prove to be more difficult for some clansmen than others.
The pre-meetings with the first wave of clan leaders had given us an idea of how many clansmen would be coming and what their needs might be. We were able to accommodate each one as they arrived, since we’d been able to plan ahead of time. Their new homes were scattered all throughout the area.
We’d also created a central location at sanctuary and placed community buildings there. We wanted to offer a neutral place to gather and to get to know one another, yet they could still retreat to their homes and maintain that sense of isolation. We felt that was important for a positive transition.
Our home was near the hub of sanctuary, easily accessible and centrally located. We wanted to show our commitment to uniting the clans. If we were available and interacting with everyone, we hoped they would all follow suit. We couldn’t afford to remain distant, not if our culture was to survive.
Things weren’t exactly evolving at a rapid pace in that regard. The clans were settling into their homes without issue, but they continued to maintain their distance from each other, so there hadn’t been much interaction.
We heard from the leaders in weekly updates, but no one was doing anything to encourage their clansmen to interact with the others. In the last meeting I brought up protection at sanctuary.
“I think that one way we can foster interactions between the various clans would be in the creation of a dragon guard. This would bring various clansmen together in a singular purpose and require daily training sessions.”
“I don’t know if that would help,” Geoffrey said, unconvinced at the possibilities.
He was centuries old, like most of those in today’s meeting. Geoffrey was also one of the more vocal and least likely to embrace change. Though, to give him credit, he did move his people here, so that’s something.
I had to remind myself that these men were not men, but dragons and stubborn as hell!
They had centuries of status quo, but death lies in that direction and they have to realize that they can no longer afford to remain stagnate.
“I really feel that if we give them a mutual goal, they will be united in that. Plus with the new sense of purpose and drive, hopefully that will spill over to their people when they return home after a patrol or training session,” I told them, hoping to sway them to my way of thinking.
“I’m with Geoffrey on this, I don’t think having the different dragons patrolling together will work and might actually have the opposite effect. How can they trust each other, when they’ve never worked together?” Alain replied.
When they refused to listen to my suggestions, Cipriano added his support for my plan. We didn’t share my entire history with them, but they all knew I was the supposed last true Phoenix Dragon and the only dragon to have been born in the past several centuries.
“Geoffrey and Alain, no worries. Please don’t feel as if you need to send your clansmen to participate in our program. The rest of you though, if you want your clans to be represented within our elite guard, then I suggest you seek out your most eligible dragons and send them to us,” Cipriano told the other clan leaders.
He continued on to say, “Charani has devised a plan for the development of an elite dragon guard. These talented dragons will represent each of your clans. They will be responsible for the safety of all the clansmen here at sanctuary.”
Check and mate!
How could they not want their men or women to participate. I sent Cipriano a wave of gratitude through our connection.
We recruited the dragons that had expressed interest to their clan leaders in patrolling sanctuary and becoming a part of our elite guard. We charged them with organizing themselves into rotating shifts to patrol the vast area that encompasses sanctuary and the surrounding area as well.
Tarrin and Tauric were instrumental in helping with the new guard. They organized training sessions and scouting maneuvers. The guards were the most active and engaged of all the dragons. I prayed my idea would work and that this elite guard would encourage interactions among the rest of the clans.
After talking with the family, we decided to implement an additional defense program for anyone who was interested. Tarrin and Tauric would lead that as well, but Dreah and I would be involved. There would be weekly lessons and we hoped this would entice the female clansmen into participating.
We were making slow progress forward with very small steps, but at least we were steadily moving in the right direction and towards the ultimate goal of clan unity.
It was a strange dichotomy I found myself in. I was held in awe by the clans for being the last true Phoenix and yet, they remained distrustful of me and my motives. It was a rejection of sorts and far too reminiscent of my parents—when they made me, a little girl thrown away.
My biological parents gave me away and my adoptive ones—well, they just plain threw me away.
I tried not to dwell on these emotions—acceptance or rejection, because neither would do me any good. I couldn’t change what I was or where I’d been, but I was learning to accept both.
6
My family was at the estate in Kansas City taking a much-needed break from sanctuary. There was so much to do with settling the dragon clans that were relocating to the Ozarks, that we rarely had time for private family gatherings. This was a nice reprieve.
Dreah asked to have a family meeting, so after dinner we all gathered in the great room.
“Where’d Dreah run off to?” Ian asked.
He was sitting on the couch
with Isabella nestled between his wide-spread legs so he could rub her shoulders. Her head was hanging forward and tipping left and right, so that Ian could hit just the right spot. It looked heavenly and she was clearly enjoying every moment of his attention.
“She ran to grab something from her room. She should be back at any moment,” I told them.
“I’m back,” Dreah announced, as she came bouncing into the room.
She had an expression on her face that was hard to place, but she was excited about something, that much was clear. Time would tell, so I would be patient and wait for her to reveal just what she was glowing about. Cipriano looked my way and nodded, conveying that he had noticed the same thing.
“As you all know,” she began, excitement making her breathless, “I’ve been working with the witches at sanctuary. They’ve taught me a lot about their culture and about magic, including how to cast various types of spells.”
“Dreah, they do have names you know,” I teased.
“I know. It’s just easier to lump them all together,” she replied with a cheeky grin and continued, “I had a vision awhile ago which compelled me to make something and to make it using a bit of magic. See?”
She held out her hands, as if to show us something, but her hands appeared to be empty and I told her as much.
“I know!” She squealed, “Isn’t it just grand?”
“What’s grand, Dreah?” Cipriano asked, just as confused as the rest of us.
“You can’t see what I’m holding in my hand? Is that what you are telling me?”
We all answered that we couldn’t see anything.
“What about now?” She asked, waving her left hand over her right, as she whispered something simultaneously.
As she did so, seven amulets appeared and were dangling from her right hand. They reminded me of Hulbetto’s Amulet of the Dead that I’d destroyed, releasing the collective trapped within. Hulbetto had used it to fuel his immortality with the essence of my dragon brethren.
