Dreams are just dreams

***POV – Zagon (age 7 – around 13 years ago)

The little girl yawns and sits up straight on my back. This time there are no words in my seven-year-old vocabulary to describe their faces so I’ll just go with flabergasted.

“Holy fuck … erony, she got so big,” Xavier comments, pathetically trying to reduce his swearword.

“She looks just like her mother!” Oberon whispers with tears in his voice. Joyful tears also flood Xavier’s eyes and roll over his cheeks.

“Okay, demon, “ Oberon holds out his arms expectantly, “just give us our granddaughter so we can all get out of here.”

I growl again, irritated by his remarks, not sure why everyone calls me a demon? Is it written on my forehead? Is it because I killed those vamps? He pulls his arms back with a frown.

“Leave my puppy alone!” The little voice shoots through the air. She doesn’t seem to know her family. Annoyed by the little drooling kid, I throw my head in the air. I’m not her freaking puppy and I don’t need a five-year-old girly girl to protect me.

I tense my muscles, ready for anything they can throw at me. And just in case, I give them a growl to let them know I mean business.

“Now isn’t that sweet?” Xavier smiles softly tilting his head to the side. Sweet? What is it with these two clowns? Is this what supernaturals are like?

The little flea fixed on my back grabs hold of my fur again, and I swear she ribbed some from their pockets. I give another growl.

“Hey, we’re not going to hurt you, we’re here to help you. I’m Oberon, king of the elves and that ugly wolf is Alpha King Xavier Black.”

I cock my head to the side. Two kings? This is getting more and more confusing by the minute. But never mind that, right now, I have a more serious little situation – I don’t know how to get back to my other body. I so wish I could speak, but yeh … apparently a dog’s mouth is not made for words.

“Can you shift back so you can tell us what happened here?” Oberon inquires. I shake my big head from side to side, but instead of helping a dog out, he frustratedly throws his hands in the air while mumbling to himself.

I whimper softly, thinking that there’s no reason to get uptight about it, I’m all new to this. Rather throw some of those blue sparks around and fix this situation.

Xavier gives a step forward, a very muddled look on his face.

“Is this your first shift?” he asks puzzled. This time I nod my head. Yep, you get it, big man.

“Okay, here’s what you do … “ and then I painfully manage to shift back into my normal body. Angel slides from my back and drops onto the snow with a giggle. Ug, girls.

Then the sudden coldness against my bare body shocks me and goosebumps trickle over my skin. My feet feel wet and soggy, and it starts to tingle and pain. The two kings seem more shocked to see my normal form than they were seeing my hound.

“Aint you a wee bit young to shift? I mean, you’re for sure not 16 yet,” Xavier recovers first. I don’t know how to answer him, I don’t even know what I am, needless to say at what age I was supposed to become a dog.

“I’m seven.”

Oberon snickers at his wolf friend, “I guess well-endowed parts are a K9 thing.” I glance down at my junk, that’s a little shriveled up from the cold, and then try uneasily to cover it with my hands.

The elf magically creates some clothes again, handing them over to me with a teasing smile. This magic stuff is dope and I wonder if he could make me a pizza … or any food for that matter cause I’m starving. But clothes are also good and I thankfully get dressed as quickly as possible, soaking in the welcome warmth it provides.

“Are you really a werewolf? And an elf? And those things were vampires? I didn’t mean to kill them but they attacked us. Did you do magic? Can you whiff up some pizza? Can I do magic? So what am I? And why did I turn into a dog?” I ask, needing to know, the depressive thoughts pushed back for now.

“Oh, boy, you truly are a mess,” Oberon says scratching his head. “Where do you come from?“

“My parents are commoners, and we stay in Berxly,” I answer his question politely. I mean, he is a king after all. The two kings frown and look at each other before Oberon speaks again.

“Eh, your dad … he’s a commoner?” He sounds a bit confused, but hey, welcome to the club cause I’m a lot confused right now. I nod my head.

“My dad for sure is a commoner. He hates supernaturals.”

“What are you doing here all alone?”

“I’m being punished. My parents drop me off somewhere remote and then I have to find my way back. But I’m used to it.”

“Eh, … punished … mmm … listen, demon,” Oberon starts but I interrupt him. Enough is enough!

“Stop calling me that! Why does everybody call me that?” I’m trying to make a statement without sounding too disrespectful.

Both kings looked shocked.

“Hmmm, son … you are a demon and that dog was your hellhound … “ Xavier says still sounding a little taken aback.

“I’m a demon … in the true physical sense of the way … not in the negative comparison sense. Okay, that clears things up a little bit.”

“Do you always use such big words?” Xavier asks with a lopsided grin and I can only look at him a little annoyed. What did he think … I’m stupid cause I’m a demon?

Well, I’m not. And I’m not gonna let anybody insult my intelligence – king or not. I stand up as tall as my seven-year-old body allows while glaring at the two kings. The girl hides behind me, her little arms awkwardly wrapped low around my hips in an almost abusive position.

“What’s your name?” Oberon asks this time.

“Zagon.” They look at me as if they’re expecting me to say more, but what more can I say … my father forbids me to use his surname.

“… just Zagon.”

Oberon opens his mouth to say something but an eery scream burst through the sky, interrupting him. More screams follow and it’s as if it pours over me like a heavy blanket and I can’t seem to move. The girl painfully grips my inner thigh with her small hand, breaking the skin, and I’m just glad it’s not my balls.

Two riders are almost silently approaching us through the clearing, the snow damping the horses’ hooves into muffled puffs. The mounted creatures’ long grey robes flap in the wind like flags of doom.

Stuck in the same spot, I can only watch them get closer and closer as if perplexed in a slow-motion movie. Small details become clearly highlighted and the firey snorts of the horses escape in icy clouds of fog. A horripilation of dread tingles down my spine, and it’s as if something is sucking all the happy energy from my soul … not that I’m happy or have a soul.

Their cries split through the sky again and I’m sure it can be heard straight through hell to the other side of the planet. Angel closes her pointy ears with her hands, trying fruitlessly to block the sound, but her painfilled face tells me it’s not working. I’m with you girl, I think I just burst an eardrum.

“Darklings … fuck!” Xavier shouts.

I still stand solidly frozen, not even blinking. Darklings? I thought they were just made-up creatures from fairy tales, used to scare children when they're bad. Mom threatens us with them at least once a day. Turns out she was not joking after all.

A bright blue light sparks through the night and shoots the first attacker straight from his horse. The alpha king moves with lightning speed and before the thing even lands on the ground, his heart is ripped from his chest. Sticky dark blood oozes from the hole to dye the snow. Xavier drops the heart, his hand and arm are coated with black blood. I’m way impressed … these kings might be old, but boy can they fight.

Then the last rider storms towards me with stretched-out arms, lying low in the saddle, his face a skeleton with parts of decomposing muscles and skin still attached, his eyes hollow orbs of nothing.

“Zagon, MOVE!” The voice pulls my primitive instincts into action and I grab the girl at the last moment to dive into the soft snow. The dirt-filled hooves fly over my head, missing it with mere inches, but one long nail scrapes across my cheek. A thin trickle of blood runs down my face and I dap it with the palm of my hand.

The rider pulls his horse around with force to face us again. I pull the girl protectively closer, foreseeing my next action, but not getting many ideas from my clouded mind.

“Just give me the boy!” The thing can actually speak.

“Over my dead body!” Oberon lifts his hands midway in the air, holding them stretched out before him. I feel a warm tingling sensation in my heart – nobody ever protected me before.

“As you wish, king of the fairies,” the sarcastic darkling spurs his steed into a full gallop, the metallic surface of the sword in his boney hand giving off an eery shine. Why does he want me? Is he here because I murdered those vampires? Am I going to jail?

“I’m a fucking elf!” Some more blue light appears, coming from the elven king’s hands. I’m mesmerized and confused all at the same time.

The skeleton man falls from his horse. His hands and feet are tied by ropes in an awkward position and he rolls to a halt mere meters from my feet, the panicking horse cantering into the forest. The darkling doesn’t smell much better than he looks.

“Phew, he stinks!” The girl scrunches her nose and I swear it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Cute for a girl, that is. But she’s still a girl and all girls are just annoying little spoiled brats. The quicker I get rid of her, the better.

Oberon spits on the ground in disgust. He seems rather mad and I make a quick mental note that a mad elven king is something to avoid.

“Just a reminder, never piss off an elf by calling it a fairy,” Xavier says, looking at the numb darkling, “Isn’t that right, Tinkerbell?”

He pats the elf on the back with a skew smile and Oberon swears softly. I’m not sure, but isn’t he doing exactly the same thing he’s warning us about? Cause, according to legend, Tinkerbell was a fairy that went to Earth to help some human boy called Peter and later brought him back here. Truth or tale, who knows for sure, but the point being … she was a fairy.

“Typical wolf, all brawn and no brains. Make yourself useful and pick up that thing. I need to know who sent him.”

“You do know that darklings are flawed so they can’t lie but they’ll also never reveal the truth, right?” Xavier asks but still picks up the living darkling into the most normal position possible.

“I know that stupid,” the elven king snarls, seeming to have lost his patience along the way. I wonder if doing magic drains their energy, cause he looks really tired, almost sick.

“Who sent me? Eh … let me think,” the darkling has a clanky hollow voice as if he’s talking into an empty tin can.

“I actually didn’t get his name … but he’s no friend of yours,“ the skeleton says and it looks as if Oberon is going to pull out his hair.

“Fuck you,” the wolf king swears … he does that a lot. Then he taps the darkling on his shoulder as if he truly wants to form a friendship, his voice warm and non-hostile, “Okay, buddy, why do you want this pup?” He sounds almost believable.

“His daddy’s pals want to adopt him,” I swear if a skeleton could sprout a smirk, this was it.

“You know my dad?” I’m so surprised that this foul reeking thing knows my fucked-up commoner father that I eagerly move my face closer, my nose almost touching his – if you can call it a nose that is.

“Yes, I know your sperm-donor very well, everybody does,” he whispers extremely soft.

“He’s a legend,“ he adds and winks one of those blacker than black eyeballs. I’m confused again, and I look at Oberon to help me out, to give me some kind of explanation.

“Zagon, son, demons can’t have commoner fathers. Demons can only come from demons, so what this thing is saying is that he knows your biological father. Your dad at home … yeh, he’s not your real father.”

I’m stunned. The asshole abusing me is not even my real dad? It feels as if part of me is lost, as if someone just ripped my non-existing soul in two. Angel hooks her small arms tighter around me as if to tell me not to be sad. Strangely, it seems to be working somehow.

“Are you going to tell us a name?” Oberon asks, scrutinizing the darkling.

“A name? I can give you lots of names … but not the one you’re looking for. I can say this however, you trusted him once, fairy, and he ripped you apart.” I swear this creature has the strangest way of talking … or is it just me?

The elven king seems even more agitated, a small vein is jumping full speed in his jaw and I can hear his heart rate increasing.

“I swear if someone just thinks the word ‘fairy’ again I’ll zap them!” He holds up his hand, pointing a finger at a grinning Xavier.

Then he starts walking in a circle, mumbling to himself in deep thought while making big gestures with his arms. “Some demon we know and trusted … must be powerful … a legend … could it be … fuck … no, it’s not possible! But a black hellhound, shifting early, the mark on his face … peculiar, very peculiar. And then the darklings … shit … the prophecy … but it can’t be, no … it’s not real, is it? Ug … it means they’re still alive and we need to hide her … but how? Where … ”

“Is he okay?” I softly ask Xavier.

“It’s an elf thing,” he pulls his eyes at me while making a circling motion with his index finger at his temple.

Oberon stops in his tracks and utters one word as a question, looking at the darkling again, “Nox?”

“I would applaud, but my hands are tied. I guess elves truly are clever … “ the darkling sounds impressed, then he turns his eyes to Xavier, “Brighter than dumb wolves anyway.”

Just one swift movement and the alpha is holding a still-beating heart in his hand. Oberon doesn’t even notice, already walking in a new circle.

“Yeh, but wolves are stronger and we have short tempers.” He drops the organ into the snow.

“Hey, you crazy old fool – we have to go,” the wolf king then says out loud, stopping Oberon mid-rambling. The elf scrutinizes me, his blue eyes reflecting the power he can manifest, but I’m not scared. Not even death scares me anymore … sometimes I think it would be better than the life I have.

“Zagon … just Zagon,” Oberon lets out a deep sigh, then he takes a deep breath, “We have to take the girl. Don’t worry son, she’ll be safe, and I’ll keep a personal eye on you from now on.”

A strange feeling, as if I’m sad and angry all at the same time, burns in my heart. But I know he’s right – what in hell am I going to do with a stupid little girl?

I swallow down the sadness – I’m actually gonna miss the little flea.

“I’m sorry, demon, it’s nothing personal.” Then the freaking elf flicks his hand and mumbles a few words. A tormenting pain shoots through my brain and I grab my head between my hands and stare hatefully at Oberon. Feelings of betrayal fill my heart.

“I don’t think he’s gonna like you after this!” The Alpha king confesses.

“Good thing he won’t remember then.”

The cold west wind swirls around me, softly laughing, bewitching me into darkness, and Oberon’s voice is the last thing I hear.

“He’ll wake up soon enough. You get that horse for him and I’ll order some pizza.”