by Serena Rose
“I remember the stories my grandma in China used to tell me. Oriental dragons didn’t breathe out fire, or hoard jewelry and gold.”
“When did you even see precious stones?”
“It was on the walls, embedded, like it melted and stuck to the cave walls,” she said.
“It’s been there for a while. It keeps my father company,” he finally said. He saw the look on her face. “Yes, my father is like me. And, no, my sister is fully human. She’s the lucky one. It’s only the men that are cursed with this. I was hoping it would die with me, you know. I mean, I didn’t expect I’d get you pregnant. It’s the last thing I want for you. There’s so much you can do fully single-”
“You want to take this baby out because you’re afraid it’s going to end up like you?” she asked him, walking for the bed and sitting beside him this time.
“It’s still a fetus, not a baby.”
“But you’re here, your mother didn’t take you out-”
“My mother died in 1903.”
She looked at him. “How old are you supposed to be?”
“Past a hundred.”
“What? Well, I-” she stopped, clearly trying to digest the recent information. “Damn. I’m dating someone that could be my great-grandfather,” she laughed nervously.
Damn well indeed, he thought. Perhaps, he had reasoned with her enough that she would want that thing taken out of her. “Yes, so please, understand me when I say I want you alive, and I want that abomination in you dead.”
“It’s a baby. Your mother kept you-”
“She died giving birth to me. They always die, whenever the men in our family marry, their wives always die when they give birth to us, to males.”
“What if this is female?” she asked him.
He shook his head. “I’m not taking chances.”
“I have so many questions for you.”
“I have time to answer those questions, but I want that thing out of you tomorrow.”
“I want to keep it,” she breathed out. “I was scared of having a child, but I want to keep it now.”
He closed his eyes, sighed and clenched his fists. “Which part of dragon and male children don’t you understand? Which part of you dying don’t you understand?”
“What if I live?” she pressed on. “What if I survive through this?”
“And if you die, I’ll have to take care of that thing?” he shook his head. “No way. I can’t responsible for a life, let alone two, when my own life is a mess.”
“You seem to be handling your human side well. How long will it take before the baby shifts into something like that?”
“The beast form?” he paused. “It could start when you’re a toddler. Mine started at that prep school I went to. I was bullied as a kid, and then in high school because I was quiet. I kind of burned down the place. Yes, my father knew the risks, but he was hoping I wouldn’t end up like him. I actually did. So, there’s no escape to this. Any son will end up like the father before him, a dragon, fire-breathing.”
“You look so young for someone who’s over a hundred.”
“Perks of the curse, I guess. But I planned an exit as soon as my father passes away. You- well this, this whole thing changes everything. But, the main priority here is to have that thing taken out-”
“It’s a baby.”
“It’s still in its 2nd month, right? Do you have your passport ready?”
“Why?”
“We’re flying out tomorrow. To England.”
“I’m not having this baby taken out,” she told him, standing up, angry. “This is my child, this is my body.”
“I don’t want you dead!” he exploded, shaking. Steam rose from his body, and she stared at him, shocked at his outburst. “Don’t you get it, Kells? I broke up with you because I thought it was best for you. I didn’t think I’d be feeling something like this for you, I didn’t think I’d-”
“You feel something for me?” she looked at him, frowning.
“Whatever,” he said, “The important thing is, you survive this, and you live your life to its fullest. Humans like me- well, we don’t have much of an option. We live for a long, long time, and in the event that we get fed up or bored, we just kill ourselves. I don’t want it for that thing you have in you, I don’t want that thing to grow up with a curse, I don’t want that kid to be unable to express his anger or depression without burning things or people. I don’t want to see someone he loves, die….” His voice wavered a little, and he cleared his throat.
“Kelsey, I’ve been alive for so long, that I sometimes feel like I’m stumbling through the same things every day, been there, done that. And then you came in- and that, well, damn- it changed everything for me. Happiness like that doesn’t last long, and I knew it wouldn’t live long if I continued seeing you. There are so many ways that I could hurt you, but getting you pregnant is the worst way I can.”
There was prolonged silence.
“You only hurt me the first few days. There had to be a reason…” her voice trailed off. “Well, now I know the reason.”
“And you still won’t have that removed?”
“Have you always resigned yourself to the fact that it can’t be solved? And for the record, aside from the morning sickness, I feel fine, actually.”
He looked at her incredulously. “Didn’t you just listen to what I said?”
“Think about it,” she told him, her hand hovering above his. She finally decided against it, resting her hand on the sheets. He stared at her hand for a while, suddenly wanting to hold onto it tightly.
“Think about what?”
“Has your family ever tried to find a cure of sorts?”
“Of course, we have. We’ve had about 800 years to do that.”
“And yet your line still continued,” she said.
“The prophecy had been right all along,” he said to her, wondering if she would believe the prophecy. Well, she already has seen the unthinkable, he thought.
“What was it about?”
“Everyone who bears our children will die.”
He looked at her, as if memorizing all her features, and a fear in him grew, and it was a fear that meant he could not match her outlook in life, and he could not match the strength it took to make that decision for herself and the thing growing in her.
“I don’t want you to die,” he finally uttered.
*
She slept beside him the entire night, and by morning, she was surprised to see two breakfast trays in an anteroom. He was already up, drinking gin and tonic.
“Who-?” she began, realizing how silly it must’ve looked that she didn’t wake up at the sound of someone checking up on her.
“I asked Lee to fix us breakfast. You have to eat. It’s a long travel to England.”
“Why England?” she frowned. “We don’t have to go anywhere.”
“Kelsey, I’d like to reach an agreement with you.”
“An agreement. Why does this sound like I’ll be at the losing end?” she breathed out.
“I thought about what you said. You asked if we never found a cure, in all our years of existence. I said we haven’t, but then again, we didn’t do much about who we loved or married, we tried and resigned ourselves to the fact that everyone who bears a son will die.”
“And?”
“That’s why we’re leaving for England.”
“To research for a cure?” she looked at him questioningly.
“Aren’t you supposed to be good at this?”
“This isn’t something that can be solved by a textbook, Will.”
“The agreement is that, if we can’t find anything remotely related to saving you, I elect to have that removed.”
“This is my body.”
“It’s your life. You’ll thank me someday. Whatever happens, even if you no longer talk to me after all of this, as long as you’ve survived-”
“I’ll live through this,” she said, determined.
“It’s how I’ve survived all these years,” she replied. “By being stubborn. And I can’t just drop everything; you know I’m on a scholarship, and I have work.”
“And you know I sort of own the school, right?” he cocked a brow at her.
“It doesn’t mean anything. You don’t decide my grades for me.”
“It means everything. Hurry up and eat. England’s a couple of hours away, nine to be exact.”
She was about to say something, when he interrupted her.
“Private plane. So, hurry up,” he told her, his blood racing.
Kelsey found herself gobbling up breakfast as quickly as she could, only to throw it up an hour later by the roadside. This time, he waited patiently for her, asking her if she needed anything. She was like a drunk collegiate student- only she was more of pregnant than inebriated. He had been diligent enough to bring a bottle of water, and some mints.
“Thank you,” she said weakly.
He sighed again. “We have a long way to go.”
She had grabbed whatever clothes she could find, her passport, and other forms of identification, all in under thirty minutes. “Where are we going exactly?”
“Wales,” he replied. “We’re heading for Wales.”
“It has a dragon on its flag…” her voice trailed off.
“That’s an ancestor,” he said.
“So, you speak Welsh?”
“Barely; it’s disappointing, actually,” he said, driving towards a private tarmac.
“That’s what we’re riding in?” she said, surprised.
“What? You expected coach?” he said. “We barely use this, so we use it for long haul flights. Come on in.”
They were greeted by an impeccably dressed flight attendant, and a co-pilot, and the captain. It was a plush jet, fully reclining seats with the scent of expensive leather mingled in the air.
“We’re having Italian this morning, sir,” the attendant informed him.
He nodded. “Is the first aid kit well stocked?”
“Yes sir. Are you feeling ill? Is madam?”
“Just checking,” he said. “Thanks.”
They fastened their seatbelts, and Kelsey found herself looking out of the window apprehensively. Her stomach was in knots. Or maybe she was just having morning sickness again. Whatever it was, she was on a plane, en route to Wales, leaving everything without warning, without so much as a call to Sally.
“I’ve already asked my people to contact the shop you work in,” he said, as if reading her mind.
“You have people- right,” she said absentmindedly.
“Are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted, looking at him. “I don’t know what I should think about first. All I know is, well- I didn’t expect this to happen.”
“Neither did me. I expected I’d be living out the rest of my days, until I feel like I’m ready to kill myself, you know, come into terms that the family bloodline will end with me. It still has that chance."
“It’s a gift, living that long.”
“No, it’s a curse. You might think I’m used to people dying around me by now. I’m not. It’s never been easy, but I know it’s that human side of me.”
“It’s that human side of you that doesn’t want me to die?” she stopped, hearing the flight attendant come out moments later.
They waited till their meals were served on a silver platter in front of them. “Yes, it’s that human side of me that doesn’t want you to die,” he continued. “We’re going to Wales because we might find something there, some cure we’ve overlooked, some way we can take- fine, some way you can keep that thing without getting killed,” he finished.
“It’s a living being, not a thing,” she said, feeling offended.
“I hope you didn’t forget what you saw last night,” he said to her.
“I didn’t, but your point here is to find a cure, not take it out yet,” she reminded him.
“Cures are… well, they’re a far-fetched thing. Think of it as our last bastion of hope…” he found that he couldn’t say anything else. “How’s your food?”
“Restaurant quality,” she said, munching down on some greens. Vegetables were apparently the only thing she could manage to keep down and digest successfully, as of late.
“Glad you’re enjoying it.”
“Don’t stare at me when I eat,” she said to him.
“I don’t want you throwing up again. There’s no doctor here.”
“I’m fine,” she said to him, gulping down some water. “Do I look ill to you?”
“It’s only in childbirth that-” he stopped himself. “Never mind. When we get there…” he had mumbled the last part, which made Kelsey think of her own mortality even further.
Was it worth it to bring a child into the world without having the chance to actually mother it? If it was true… then it was no wonder that William was adamant against it. It would be unfair to bring a child into the world, only to be reared by a distant parent, with money as a source of warmth. Was that why William had decided it should all end with him? It was his life, after all, and it was his choice to live for as long as he wanted to… only, she didn’t want him dead. She didn’t want him to kill himself, so the curse could end with him.
She couldn’t relate to him, couldn’t see why it made him desperate- but his transformation had given her enough reason to see how painful it must be for him. To be knocked out for hours on end, she had heard bones breaking, and she had seen his skin burn into ash-
“When we get there,” she repeated, as if trying to convince herself that all was going to go splendidly. “When we get there.”
“Get some sleep,” he told her.
She couldn’t sleep the entire flight.
*
“I’m sorry you won’t get a chance to see the sights much,” he told her as he drove a rented car. She was surprised that he didn’t have a chauffeur around.
“I don’t have much staff here,” he told her, “Skeleton force at the ancestral castle.”
What? Castle? She almost choked. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined setting foot in Wales, let alone anywhere near Europe for the next twenty years or so. “Castle?”
He nodded as he drove. “Ancestral home, we call it Cadwaladr.”
“Sounds complicated already.”
“It was back then, according to our historical books.”
“You have old books?” she said, sounding excited.
“On our family history yes, but it’s kept in a vault in the library. Only I can open it… well, now that you’re here, we can both read it. But I highly doubt you’re well versed in Welsh, because I certainly am not. I can try, though.”
She nodded. Try was a good word for now. It meant he was holding onto the hope that she wouldn’t die even if she carried his baby. Maybe, just maybe, he was still hoping to keep the child…
“We’re here,” he muttered.
She saw the edifice up ahead, covered in thick green vines, turrets in different corners, and tall walls made out of quarried stone. It felt like she had stepped into a medieval dream. William took no notice of this apparently, as he got out of the car, grabbing her bag along the way. No one was there to greet them. He had the keys to the main door himself, and when he opened it, she was surprised it had electricity it all. The hall was cavernous, like what she had seen in the movies and paintings of old. There were propped up suits of armor, and shields on the walls. Even the old torches were still there, except for display this time.
An eerie feeling crept through her, and she felt as though the castle was alive, and it had a heart, beating somewhere. She felt cold, and she knew it wasn’t just the weather.
“This way,” he said. “Would you mind if I let you wait in the library? You can begin your uhm- research. Let me just whip up a quick dinner.”
She nodded, not even sure where to start.
<
br /> They both walked into an old library, one that overlooked a dead rose garden, withering away due to the nearing winter. It made for a forlorn scene. She stepped away from the window and quickly walked to where William was headed. There was a large painting on the wall, one of a man holding a staff with a red dragon on it. William took the painting down, showing a vault behind it. Dialing on a button, the door swung open with a heavy creak.
“Come on,” he said to her.
It was a vault large enough to fit a few people in it. Her eyes nearly popped out of her sockets, seeing fine jewelry scattered about with stacks of gold bullion, there were boxes filled with papers, as well. In the center of the room lay a table, with a book encased in glass.
“Cowhide leather,” she remarked.
“It’s only a few hundred pages. There’s a space where we descendants can write on it. The last time I saw this was in 1978… so I guess there’s nothing after that.”
“Everything’s in Welsh?”
“Until my father’s. He started writing in English. There’s pen and paper on a table. My laptop is at your disposal as well. Excuse me while I fix up something quick.”
He seemed fidgety, uncomfortable in his own ancestral home, but she didn’t say anything about it, waiting until he had gotten out, so she could start working on how to fix this situation, if it could be fixed at all. What could one week yield for them? For her? For the baby?
It has to be a male, he had insisted, or else you would’ve lost it when you fell into the water.
She was starting to believe him, but male or female, that barely mattered now. What mattered was that she could keep the child. She had never thought of herself as maternal and did not expect this kind of reaction from herself. How fierce could a mother’s love be? She then thought of calling her mother, but she knew it wasn’t time yet. She started with the last few pages, surprised to see Will’s elegant handwriting, a detail on the day in the life of one who shifted. He hadn’t written on it in over 40 years.
It chronicled how many times he had shifted over the years. Just two, to be exact, for 1978. In it, he had described the immense pain of transforming into the beast he so feared. He remembered everything, remembered how his body accommodated the changes, how it tore apart his inner organs and his skin, how it burned him to the core, and how fire had consumed his beating human heart.
