A dragon found and Niata's Punishment

That which had been torn from me had not been restored; rather, the enormous forces inherent within the sphere were acting as sort of a life-support system, keeping what was left of me going for the time being. But I didn't know that yet, nor do I think I would have cared all that much as I reveled in the giddy joy of being myself again.

That joy eventually faded, though, as other issues began to intrude, such as how the heck was I going to get out of that place. I padded my way back to where I had first come in, began searching the walls for some sort of exit. Just like in the caves, though, I found precisely nothing. Even using that strange sphere as a field-expedient lantern I could find no fissure, no gap, not even the faintest crack to indicate a passageway. Remembering what had happened the last time, I placed my hands against the stony surface and pushed. I even invoked the Ancestors again. Nothing.

Finally I settled back into the sand with a sigh, and contemplated the rock sealing me in. Unbidden, the mummified remains of the Ancestor came to mind, and I shuddered. How long had he been here? Why had he been here? Had he been trapped, the only hope of freedom being that someone would come and replace-- I broke off that thought, shivering. No. There had to be a way out; I just hadn't found it yet. I renewed my search, once again examining the stone, then slowly expanding my search to the surrounding walls.

Once again, I found the way quite by accident. A biped human probably wouldn't realize it, but trying to move about on four limbs and carry something at the same time isn't exactly easy. Finally I gave a snort of annoyance and tucked that swirling sphere into my jaws for safekeeping.

It was like sticking my tongue into a light socket. Once more the world whited-out around me as more Power than I ever believed possible slammed into me, but not attacking this time. Instead, it surrounded me, infused me. Abruptly I felt this massive shifting sensation, and I once again became aware of the cavern about me. Then I was the cavern. Then I was the bedrock surrounding it. Then the entire hillside. Then. . . .

It was a familiar experience, one I'd had before, upon a tiny scrap of an island somewhere in the Caribbean. The only thing different was now I had this enormous feeling of control. When my awareness had expanded to encompass the winds about the hillside, something within me said stop, and it did.

Somehow I looked about myself, seeing once again the incandescent lines of power inscribing both land and sky, the brilliant web of light painstakingly woven about the cavern in which I lay. Studying them, I quickly came to understand the reason I could find neither entrance nor exit was because there was none; the only portal was the one created by the Power of the sphere.

A moment's thought was all it took. There was no feeling of transition, just a strange snap, and I found myself mostly within my own head again, but now located roughly ten meters above the jagged surface of the gorge's frozen stream. A moment's panic, then I realized that I wasn't falling. Instead, I was drifting through the air above the frozen stream almost like a balloon, and with about as much effort. Suddenly I understood how the wingless Lung flew; what need did one have for wings, when the very winds about you were extensions of yourself? Images of ancient woodcuts, of ancestral jaws gripping mysterious spheres came to my dazed mind, and for a moment I wondered what would happen if I took the sphere from my mouth, but quickly decided to forego the doubtlessly wonderful experience of doing a belly-flop onto jagged rocks and twisted ice.

A glimmer of Power caught my eye then, pulling me out of my vague musings. What? My eyes widened, then narrowed as I spied the still form lying crumpled atop a drift of glittering snow. In my current state, I could see the lines of Power that made up the wards of this place tangled all about the form, drawing the life out of it, very nearly to the point of death.

Stefan.

Evidently I was gone too long, and heedless of his own safety and the admonishments of both myself and Dithra he'd come to rescue me. Now it was he that required rescuing, I reflected with wry exasperation as I drifted closer.

I must have made some sort of sound, for Stefan stirred then, lifting a ghastly-pale face to stare upwards with eyes that quickly widened in both shock and wonder. Without even thinking about it I cupped one hand, and the winds that were a part of me lifted him gently from his resting place and deposited him neatly into my palm, which I held protectively close to my chest as I thought of Dithra's lair and the need to get Stefan there as quickly as possible--

Again there was that snap, and suddenly I found myself coiled upon the floor of Dithra's living room. Whoa! I blinked, then shook my head to clear it as I gingerly laid an apparently speechless Stefan down upon a sofa, then worked on getting myself down to roughly horse-size before I accidentally smashed any more of Dithra's gewgaws.

Curiously enough, the sphere had scaled itself down as well. Frowning, I took it from my mouth to once again examine it, and was staggered by the abrupt collapse of my awareness back into my physical shell. I was still trying to reorient myself when Dithra came storming into the room, still in her human guise.

She obviously thought her home was being invaded again, for the last time I saw a creature moving like that was when a German Shepherd I once owned mistook me for an intruder late one night and came at me, silent, fast, and hard. Just like my poor old dog, Dithra quickly realized her error, her eyes going wide as she quite literally skidded to a halt, staring at me in what I suddenly realized was a look of utter astonishment. Then she further confused me by drawing herself up and carefully executing a dragon's gesture of respect.

To a superior.

I felt my lower jaw sagging in shock as she proceeded to say something in the growl-purr-hiss-click language of the dragons, then shook my head and interrupted what sounded like was about to become quite a speech. "Dithra, what in the world are you doing?"

The ancient dragon froze, then slowly straightened to stare at me. Finally her eyes widened in disbelief. "Hasai? Is that you?"

I stared back at her. "Yes, Dithra, it's me," I replied slowly, then paused and looked over at Stefan, who was still looking at me like I'd grown a second head. Something was seriously wrong here. "What made you think otherwise?" I said at last.

For several long moments the ancient dragon simply stood there and looked at me, a very odd expression on her face. Finally she moved towards me, and slowly, gingerly, laid her right hand against my temple. A pause, then suddenly there was the image of some strange being in my mind. The fantastic creature's massive head was framed by a lion's mane of glittering metallic ribbons punctuated by a pair of large, upsweeping horns. The steel-scaled body was serpentine, almost snakelike, jagged dorsal spines running down the entire, seemingly endless length of backbone, the hind limbs almost an afterthought. The tail, very nearly as long as the rest of the body, ended at last in another plume of steely ribbons. No wings.

I studied the fabulous creature for almost a full minute before realization hit me and I blinked. It was me.

I am Shen Lung.

Stefan was almost completely recovered from his encounter with the Lungs' wards by the time we sorted everything out, Dithra seated in what I was beginning to suspect was her favorite chair, and myself coiled comfortably upon the floor. My metallic mane made soft clashing noises as I scratched my head. "So what you're saying," I continued, looking at Dithra "is that point of light I saw in my dream was a piece of-- of myself?"

Dithra gestured affirmation. "I believe so, dear one. It would explain much about the damage you suffered during your last encounter with Ksstha." She paused, thinking. "I also believe that the 'dreams' you've been having are attempts to use this fragment to weaken you, and, in the end, finally succeed in enslaving you." The ancient dragon looked up at me. "You didn't see Ksstha?"

"No, my Lady. There was a dragon there, alone. I don't think it was Ksstha, though."

"Interesting." Absently, Dithra began to gently stroke one of the arms of her battered old chair, almost like a cat sharpening its claws. "Most interesting. Could it be that Niata has decided to play a private game of her own? I daresay Ksstha would be less than amused."

I snorted, then smiled grimly. "Hell, he'd skin her alive. Slowly."

Dithra returned my smile. "Indeed he would, if he decided to be merciful. Niata must be quite sure of herself to take such a hideous risk." She sobered. "And that confidence is not misplaced, if she indeed has captured that missing part of you, dear one."

Things went quiet for awhile after that as I contemplated Dithra's words. We'd already figured out the reason for my change in appearance; under Dithra's probing hands we'd found that the power of the strange sphere of the Lungs that I'd brought back with me had somehow managed to flow into and 'fill' the damage done to the dragon portion of myself. The fix was illusory, however, as beneath the patch that which was me continued to unravel. As long as I stayed in close proximity to it the sphere would keep my body alive, if increasingly Lung in appearance, but eventually all it would be supporting would be an empty shell.

As for the sphere itself, Dithra could tell me little. "They house unimaginable Power, and they are a thing solely of the Lung. It is death for anyone who is not of their kind to touch. Other than that, I know nothing."

I looked down at the softly glowing sphere, now nestling in the palm of my hand. "So. Eventually Niata will succeed in drawing the remainder of my spirit to her and enslaving it. Is that what you're saying?" I didn't look up from the sphere to attempt to read either Dithra's or Stefan's expressions; their silence was eloquent enough. At last I grunted. "I see." I grew quiet again, thinking furiously. Tactically. Niata and I had battled; she had my measure. She knew my powers, my abilities. . . .

. . . .But she did not know I now had this sphere of the Lung.

A corner of my hard mouth curled upwards into a cold, cruel smile.

This dumb, worn-out old goon not only had a very big gun, he now had a damned nuke.

At last I looked up into two worried faces. "Well. I suppose I should go get ready for my next meeting with Ksstha's little renegade, don't you think?" I then chuckled grimly as those faces became positively stricken.

"My Lord. . . ." I looked at Stefan, but his voice trailed off as he visibly groped for something to say, something to offer. I felt my smile warming as I watched. "Thank you Stefan," I finally replied. He stared at me helplessly, then dropped his gaze. I then turned to Dithra, read the question in her own eyes. "I'm not quite sure yet," I answered, my smile turning grim again, "but I promise you Niata will not find it-- pleasant." I raised the sphere.

"Hasai," I paused as Dithra lifted a hand, but after a moment, it fell again. "Dear one, we will wait for you." She said at last.

I studied her eyes for a long moment, read the unspoken message there. I nodded. "That is the only thing I can ask of you, Dithra. Thank you."

Another pause, then I felt my fangs baring themselves in a carnivore's grin as I winked at Stefan, placed the sphere within my jaws, and thought of a place buried deep within the bedrock of the earth. . . .

Snap.

That bubble within the Earth was exactly as I'd left it, of course. I had no doubt it would continue to exist, unchanged, until the end of days.

It seemed vaguely sacrilegious to coil there, atop the mound of soft sand that had been the resting place of he who had abided here for so very long. Perhaps he would have welcomed me to it, but I would never know. The Ancestor was gone, leaving me with a strangely glowing sphere, and mystery upon mystery.

That sphere hung before me within easy reach, shedding its weird, shadowless glow upon myself and my surroundings. In the sand all about myself and the sphere were ring within ring of elaborate defenses, the outer patterns of actinic light hastily constructed, the inner circles increasingly sophisticated. They meant nothing, of course; if Niata did indeed possess a piece of my spirit, then anything I wrought with my own power would crumble before her with naught to show for my efforts but a moment's delay.

Hopefully, that moment's delay would be all that I would need.

With more than a trace of anxiety I rechecked the patterns for what seemed to be the hundredth time. Then, for the hundredth time, my teeth glinted in the soft light as I sneered at my trepidation.

But no, I silently argued with myself, the fear was not unfounded. It was only by sheer dumb luck, the rapping of a handful of pebbles against a window pane, that had saved me the last time Niata had attacked, saved me from an eternity of slavery, I realized with a shudder.

But Niata would try again, I knew. She'd try again, then again and again and again, if necessary. I had absolutely no doubt that even now both Dithra and Ksstha were turning the world inside-out looking for the rogue magus, so Niata had nothing to lose, and all the world to gain. And she only needed to win once.

A last glance at my patterns, then with a sigh I laid down upon the heap of sand, my head upon my crossed forelegs, staring into the swirling depths of the sphere. Dithra. Stefan. If it hadn't been for Stefan's lethal efficiency and Dithra's resources I would have been meat for the wolves long ago. And that was the problem, wasn't it? For too long I'd been using them as a crutch, knowing, even as I postured a false independence, that any time the going got rough, I could scuttle back to them for protection like a pawn huddling in the reassuring shadow of other, more powerful pieces.

For too long I had been that pawn, blundering about in the dark, buffeted about by forces I could not control, but damn it, no more. No more would I simply react to another's moves, for that was the classic loser's strategy. It was time to act. It was time for people to realize this pawn was no longer going to play their games. It was time for me to execute a few knight-moves of my own.

That iron-hard resolve would last for all of an hour or so as I gazed into the hypnotic depths of the sphere, but eventually I would get up and check my defenses yet again.

Finally, it came. How long had I been there, waiting? Days? Weeks? The rogue magus must have known more than a little about strategy herself, for she waited until I'd worked myself into a frazzled, nervous wreck before striking again. My reactions were sluggish, almost zombielike when the glowing lines of my defenses suddenly exploded into sunlike brilliance, my patterns flaring and dying one after another like constructs of tissue paper before the flames of Hell. Too fast. Too fast. Caught out of position, with a lurch I threw myself across the cavern's sandy floor, jaws reaching for the sphere--

Suddenly I found myself once again flying through a starry blackness, across some vast, shadowed, twisted terrain, something drawing me on, leading me as surely as if there were a leash around my neck, its owner pulling steadily.

Dimly, I felt myself struggle, try to think beneath a cold, relentless pressure that strove to crush my mind into oblivion. Had I reached the sphere? I was sure I hadn't, and fought to bring myself back to the place where my physical form now lay, to get to the atrifact. . . .

Once again I have no idea how long I flew through those skies with their alien constellations, but finally I saw something ahead, a flat, circular area in the midst of that dead, tormented land, from the center of which emanated an eye-hurtingly bright blue-white glow. Something within me yearned towards that light, and whatever was leading me on dragged me down towards that clearing.

I landed, found myself moving reluctantly forward. The light had resolved itself into a luminescent spark held within a cage consisting of lines of sullen crimson light, tiny flames of grimy orange and blood red seeming to lick fitfully about them. As I drew closer, the yearning within me for that glow swelled into an agonized hunger. Beyond the cage I could see another form, large, draconic in shape. The form's pale blue eyes shone coldly in the light as they studied me. With the last pathetic rags of a fast-fading will I fought those eyes, my heart crumpling into despair as I felt myself begin to bow in submission--

And stopped. Something was happening. Abruptly a silvery glow flared to life about me, forcing back the encroaching darkness. The strange dreamlike quality of my surroundings splintered, then fell away like a window pane struck by some great hammer. Power flooded into me, and the terrible compulsion upon me retreated somewhat. The sphere! Somehow I'd made contact!

My respite was short-lived, however. Those glowing eyes had widened in surprise at first, the shadowy form seeming to cringe slightly from the light. Then they narrowed in anger. A dragon's forepaw reached from the shadows, its claws seeming to gently caress the cage of crimson. That glorious spark within flickered, and an all-too familiar wave of icy agony slammed into me, accompanied with a redoubled imperative to submit. But the silvery power of the sphere flamed higher as well. I weathered the assault, then counterattacked with brilliant blasts of light that tore the darkness to shreds and caused the draconic shape to writhe in pain just as great as my own.

There was no finesse, no strategy to this battle, just two beings silently slugging it out, both desperate to win a conflict that neither could afford to lose. Niata had both forepaws on the soul-snare now and used it ruthlessly, striving to crush me with the power the fragment of myself she possessed gave her over me. Though I had the sphere she still should have succeeded, but I also could sense the dark wraith that was my human half once again bolstering me, keeping us whole, and fighting back savagely with a vicious strength I could only marvel at.

It seemed to take forever, but slowly, oh, so slowly both Niata and the shadows she strove to protect herself with were forced back, then back again. At last, the rogue magus could no longer reach out far enough to influence the evidently stationary cage, and her attacks against me abruptly subsided into weak, insubstantial things, easily ignored.

Stillness. I finally stood before that glowing spark, while Niata, eyes flaming with a mixture of both rage and fear, crouched at the very edge of the circular area, for some reason being very careful not to leave it.

At last I spoke. After all the silence, my words seemed to jolt the very air, fanning away and away like ripples upon a pond. "I believe this belongs to me," I said as I raised my hand and reached. The cage of crimson light flared protectively at my approach, the flames intensifying, but it all simply dissolved, eaten away by the silvery light that surrounded me as my hand closed upon that long-lost piece of myself.

Instantly my aura exploded nova-bright, my sight washing out as I felt something warm and alive come surging into me, rushing into and filling a deep, aching hole within me, the easing of that so-long endured spiritual pain far more welcome than any mere ecstasy could ever hope to be.

Gradually that glorious light dimmed, and my vision cleared. There was a moment's vertigo, but then I realized that once again my form had shifted. The sensation of huge wings stirring restlessly across my back made me nearly weep for joy as I stretched luxuriantly, reveling in the feelings of something I had almost given up for lost.

Movement caught my eye. During my dangerous moment of inattentiveness Niata had started something. The sphere's aura about me flared again as I braced for yet another attack, but then I realized the Power the rogue magus was frantically trying to invoke was not for assault, but rather for escape.

For a moment I almost let her go; the giddy sense of completeness that still thrummed within me had me ready to forgive almost anything, but grimly I shook it off and advanced on her, her castings growing more frenetic as I approached.

A thought, a flicker of the sphere's power, and Niata's partially completed construct shattered, the backlash smashing her to the ground. She lay there, stunned for a moment, then frantically scrabbled to her feet, the end of her lashing tail leaving the circle.

It was then that I learned why the magus was so loath to leave the clearing, for instantly something came darting out of the surrounding shadowy terrain, zeroing in on Niata's wayward appendage. I didn't get a good look at it; all I knew was that it was big, black, and eye-blurringly fast. Niata instantly yanked herself back inside, and just as quickly that dark thing was gone, leaving only a deep, clawed gouge in the rocky soil where Niata's tail had lain to verify that it had ever existed at all.

Ancestors. Did nightmares have inhabitants? I was beginning to suspect this wasn't really a dream at all. "Nice place you have here," I remarked caustically, carefully masking a small shudder, then looked up at the alien constellations wheeling above us. "I wonder where we are." I allowed Niata several long moments to break her stubborn silence, then gave an elaborate shrug and looked down at the crouching dragoness. "It doesn't really matter at the moment; I'll find out eventually. What is important now is figuring out what to do with you."

Niata's eyes blazed again at that, and her teeth glinted in a desperate snarl. For a moment I thought she was actually going to launch herself at my throat, but evidently some shred of sanity still dwelled within that armored skull, for she held herself still. Once again she did not speak, and I began to wonder if she could speak at all.

My eyes wandered down her length, and, strangely, felt a pang of regret at the amount of damage I saw there, evidence of our last encounter. Burn marks, some going deep into the flesh, were everywhere, splashed liquidly across her in napalm's unmistakable signature. Her right forepaw was little more than a charred claw, one digit burned completely away, and her right wing was a half-melted ruin. It would be a long time, if ever, before Niata flew again. For a moment I marveled at how much damage a dragon could take and still live.

"Someone whom I once cherished asked me to stop killing," I spoke at last, "and in her memory, I will not. But we both know that I cannot simply let you go. You have placed yourself in a position where you must gain control over me, or face both Dithra and Ksstha, neither of whom would hesitate to rip out your throat. An interesting problem, wouldn't you agree?"

Niata's eyes filled with dread at the sound of Ksstha's name and darted about, looking for some avenue of escape. Still she did not speak. Her stubborn silence was beginning to really get to me as I stood there, staring at her tensely coiled form, my mind searching for a solution. Suddenly it came to me, and I immediately knew it came from some outside source, for it contained things that I had not thought possible, never conceived of before. From where did it come? The sphere? Where? For a moment, I had the strangest feeling that someone, or something, was watching over my shoulders. I glanced behind me, but of course there was nothing there. . . .

Never mind; ponder it later. I smiled as I turned back to the magus, and it was not a kindly smile. "Fear not, Niata, for from this day forward you are under my protection. No dragon, no being shall touch you without going through me first." The rogue magus blinked at me in momentary incomprehension, then a growing amazement. My smile grew wider, became a carnivore's grin. "Yes, dear one, you will live. But we both know that there are far worse things in the universe than death, don't we?"

I lifted my right hand. Already that silvery glow about it was intensifying, growing ever brighter while Niata stared at it in terror. Soon my hand shone like a small sun, unbearable to look upon, and abruptly I stabbed it at the battered dragoness.

Hastily thrown-up defenses, desperately grasping, slashing claws were brushed aside, and Niata stared down in utter disbelief as my hand plunged deeply into her breast as easily as into a pool of water and with as little physical damage. Then she threw her head backwards, jaws agape in utter agony as my talons stretched wide within her, gathering, then closing.

I ripped my hand out of her, and she collapsed like a marionette with its strings cut. I allowed her the several long moments she needed to recover, to look back up at me, to see the amorphous red-orange glow that struggled within my grip, and finally to realize what I held.

It was only then that I closed my fist, and that glow seemed to pop like a soap bubble, scattering glimmering fragments that quickly faded into nothingness. "You will live, dragon," I ground out "but you are magus no longer."

Niata made a sound then, head thrown back, eyes bulging with utter horror, she gave voice to a long, wordless, hissing wail of mind-destroying loss, then crumpled to lay huddled in the dust, panting raggedly, her eyes staring at nothing.

I stared down at the ruin that I had created, the ashes of victory bitter in my mouth. "Get thee hence," I whispered at last, drawing upon the power of the sphere. There was a snap, and Niata vanished.

I closed my eyes then, and allowed myself a few precious seconds of rest, and perhaps more than a little regret. It was for a moment only, but when I opened them again, I looked upon nightmare. Whatever wards Niata had surrounded this place with were now rapidly fading. That thing I'd glimpsed so briefly must have sensed it as well, for it had reappeared, and now was pacing impatiently just outside the collapsing perimeter. It'd brought several friends this time, all of them watching me with hungry eyes of utter blackness.

Another moment, and then my mind finally comprehended the twisted shapes surrounding me. I shuddered back, the silvery light about me guttering, and in that instant they sprang. With an oath I backhanded one of the things that came slavering for my throat, then flamed two others. They fell back, silently clawing at their faces, only to be replaced by still more. I smashed yet another aside, saw the black wave of hundreds of the things rushing upon me from all directions, knew I had only seconds before they dragged me down. My hind legs tensed, then exploded upwards, my regained wings booming like thunder as I fought to get away.

For a moment I thought I'd succeeded, but then I felt fangs close about my right hind leg. This was most certainly not a dream! I set my jaws and struggled for altitude as the creature strove to drag me back down into the mass of blackness that now boiled beneath me, fangs and claws seeking a chink in my armor as it tried to climb my leg.

Slowly, so slowly I gained altitude, but still the creature clung stubbornly, biting and clawing at me long after the drop beneath us became fatal. Try as I might I could not dislodge it, and slowly the thing began to work its way upwards, seeking to tear out my life. . . .

Enough. I bent my long neck downwards, my jaws gaping wide as I flamed the creature directly in the face at pointblank range. After several endless seconds I began to think that not even that would get the thing off me as its claws continued to scrabble at my armor even as its terrible visage blistered and bubbled from the heat, the dark eyes still looking up at me with insane hatred even as they boiled in their sockets.

Finally something broke. The hideous, smoking thing gave a shudder, then its grip weakened and slid away, its black form vanishing against the dark terrain beneath me as the charred hulk began its long fall back to that tormented surface.

God, Ancestors, what is this place? My golden eyes searched those alien heavens for some clue, but found none. At last I drew a shaky breath, and began to grope for the power of the sphere. After an awful moment or two I found it, the sphere's silvery glow soon wrapping my frame once again. I thought of home.

What seemed to be an instant later I opened my eyes to behold the dull, but now quite comforting grayness of the little cavern. I removed the sphere from my mouth and parked it in midair, then turned to study my hind leg. There were marks on the metal scales protecting it.

With a grunt I settled back, thinking. Surely it had to have been a horrible dream? I looked again at my leg, and reconsidered. Then I noticed something else. Where I lay was still several long paces away from where the sphere had been when I was trying to reach it. There was no way that I could have seized it from this distance.

I arose, went to inspect the spot where the sphere had been. It didn't take me long to find something. Directly beneath its old resting place, I found a paw print. It was five-toed, like my own, but half-again my normal size.

With a chill I quickly looked about myself, searching, and finding nothing but stone and silence. Then, just for a moment, I could have sworn I felt a slight breeze stir my mane, a breeze where one could not possibly be. I shivered.

. . . .wish thee wisdom and peace. . . .