DEATH'S BANE, DRAGON'S HEART
© June 4, 2001 by Rory V. PascualAUTHOR'S NOTE: One of my listsibs on the HLM list celebrated her birthday last month, and I thought of doing a special surprise for her. I ended up digging for old notebooks containing snippets of ORIGINAL stories that I never completed. One of the snippets I found was supposed to be part of a tale I intended to submit to Marion Zimmer Bradley's zine, but never got around to finishing it. The snippet was dated the year 1994-95. After seven years, it's finally done.
Originally, the snippet was a HET story, but I changed it to SLASH (yes, m/m sex, so BE WARNED!), which suited the tale very well. This is NOT a Highlander story, but please don't let this stop you from reading it. The lead characters are still being portrayed (in my mind, at least!) by Peter Wingfield and Adrian Paul, although I took the liberty of changing Adrian's hair color and Peter's_well, you'll see for yourself.
BELATED HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ENG! May your life be always filled with blessings!! I hope you like this little original tale I wrote for you!!
...and I do, indeed. Thank you, Rory.
In a time long forgotten,Sweet brown puppy eyes glared down at the laces of his shoes that had come undone for the umpteenth time.
"BAD SHOES!" The child wagged a scolding finger at his errant footwear. To him, his shoes seemed determined to prevent him from accomplishing the errand his mother had sent him into the forest to do. "We'll never reach Papa and the others at this rate!"
The boy was no more than five years old. Slung on his back was a wicker basket as tall as him, containing bread and wine for his father and his fellow woodcutters from the village. He gazed up at the sun, the light of which was dimmed by the thick mist surrounding the moors. A groan escaped his lips, realizing that he was already late.
The child gave his little rump a half-hearted pat and a scratch. "Papa is going to spank me again! Maybe even Mama too!" He glowered down at his shoes once more. "And it's all your fault!"
Sighing, the little boy shook his head. Who was he kidding in the first place? He knew his shoes were not to blame, but an irresistible temptation and a weak will. Leaving the house early, he had decided to use the route that his mother had expressly forbidden him to take - - a circuitous path through the moors which led very close to Devil's Mound, hoping to catch even a glimpse of the monster residing there.
Devil's Mound -- a hill that was made of solid black granite, with a cave blasted through its base. All the villagers avoided the mound like the plague, all too aware of the creature that lived inside that dark cave. After all, they sacrificed virgins, chosen through a special lottery, to the monster every year, not only to ensure bountiful crops but also to appease the ravenous appetite it has for human flesh.
The same could not be said for the child, though. While the other village children had nightmares, he was fascinated by the legends surrounding the creature of Devil's Mound, and much to the chagrin of his elders, had a penchant for analyzing and finding rationales for the tales he heard. Definitely, he understood the need for bountiful crops. No one wants an angry monster swooping down from the sky and burning their fields. However, the part about the sacrifices was always a point of confusion for him. The virgins, whether they be female or male who had the misfortune of having their names picked out in the lottery, were, in his opinion, too skinny to fill a monster's belly, much more to keep its hunger satisfied for an entire year. Sometimes, he wondered if there was a higher power at work during the lottery, since the four virgins he had known during his first five years of living on this Earth were not paragons of virtue.
Take Helga Crane as an example, the monster's main course a mere three months ago. That nasty witch and her gaggle of annoying cacklers took great delight in tormenting him.
"Such a pretty little boy, you are," she had messed up his gorgeous red hair and pinched his cheeks so hard that he had burst into tears. "Better watch out or you might end up getting offered to the Beaste. If I were you, I would find a girl or another boy to rid you of your innocence. Why, pretty thing that you are, everyone would want to have you! If you like, I could do you this service." He had grimaced in horror when Helga leaned forward, with lips puckered. "Just one kiss! That's all it would take!"
One punch -- that was all it took for him to save his precious virtue from horrid Helga!
Well, look who ended up becoming the monster's dinner! Despite her gruesome fate, the little boy could not bring himself to feel sorrow or regret for her. He was more concerned about the Beaste.
Grinning, the child gazed in the direction of Devil's Mound and called out into the moors, "Hello, Sir Monster! Are you all right? I hope nasty Helga isn't giving you a tummy ache!" He was hoping against all hope that he would receive a reply -- a growl perhaps or, even better, a fierce roar. Instead, it was his voice that echoed back at him.
With a disappointed sigh, the little boy bent over forward to tie his shoelaces, causing a loaf of bread to fall out of his basket and over his head. Casually, he picked it up and deftly pitched it back inside. However, as he bent down again, out fell the same loaf.
He stomped his little feet in frustration, "First, it's my shoes. Now, it's the bread! I'll NEVER reach Papa at this rate!"
As he struggled with his laces and the wayward loaf of bread, the child did not notice that gold-tinged green reptilian eyes were observing him behind the brush. Emerging from its hiding place, its massive head blocked out the sun's rays, enveloping the boy in shadow.
The child immediately noticed how dark his surroundings had become. Slowly, he looked up to find himself staring into slitted green gold eyes. His jaw dropped as the monster of Devil's Mound stepped forward, its magnificent yet terrifying form revealed completely.
A glorious smile formed on the little boy's lips. He picked up the fallen bread loaf, but was dismayed to find it too dirty. With a quick forward jerk, he let a much larger loaf fall out of his basket, catching it in his tiny hands. Standing on tiptoe, he lifted the bread in offering to the great Beaste before him.
Beaming, the child said, "Do you like some bread, Mister Dragon?"
"Master Andion! Master!"
Andionestes started to wakefulness, his dream quickly fading into the darkest recesses of his subconscious as he beheld the ashen face of one of their healer apprentices.
"Erwen_what_" At once, dread rose inside the healer's heart. "Is it Levi?"
Before the apprentice could reply, Andion grabbed his crutch and hurriedly limped out of his hut, with Erwen helping the Master Healer don his faded green robes along the way. Andion deliberately kept his eyes straight forward, avoiding even a glance at the sick people lying on their pallets that he passed by. His mind was focused only on one thing -- reaching the children's infirmary in time.
Arriving at the small cottage, Andion swiftly entered, heading for the bed in the corner. "Grand Master Keelor!" he called to the High Healer, seated beside the little boy lying on the bed. Before he could reach his elder, Keelor pulled the blanket over the child's dead body.
"NO!" Andion shook his head in disbelief. "No, he can't be dead! I was just with him a half hour ago!"
Grand Master Keelor stood up and escorted the distraught young man out of the infirmary.
Once outside, the heartbreaking scenes of the plague he was fighting hit Andion right in the face. Because of the heat, they had decided to bring out all the sick, laying them on their pallets under large tents in the middle of the village square. Even then, only a light breeze blew that barely relieved the fever of the ill.
Suddenly, a heart-rending wail filled the air. From one of the huts, two men emerged bearing a shrouded body. A woman clung tightly to her dead husband, weeping bitterly. They were heading for the outskirts of the village where the funeral pyres continued to burn day and night.
These sights and the death of little Levi caused tears to start pouring from Andion's eyes, wetting his cheek and the mask that covered the left side of his face.
"I did everything I could, but it was too late," Keelor put in softly. A Grand Master Healer, the highest rank of a physician, even Keelor was helpless against this mysterious epidemic. "I doubt if you could've done something for Levi, my son, even with your healing abilities."
"How could you be sure of this?" Andion said in despair. "Why wasn't I called sooner? Maybe if you hadn't coerced me to sleep, Levi would still be alive!"
"Only to eventually die a few days later, while you suffer from exhaustion. It's better this way. The boy died in his sleep. He did not suffer from violent seizures like the others. At least, Levi did not die in torment."
"Am I supposed to find comfort in that, Keelor? He's still dead, and I did nothing to save his life!" Andion pounded his fist on the wall, the gold bracelets on his wrists glittering in the sunlight. " Damn the gods who brought this epidemic upon us! How many more of my people are going to die? I've tried everything, but the cure continues to elude me. I even prayed, offered sacrifices, but the gods would not listen to my pleas."
Keelor patted the Master Healer's back. Although his rank was higher than that of the younger man's, Keelor could not deny that Andion's healing abilities were greater than his. It was his deep love for the people that made the junior healer refuse his elevation to the highest rank, which would have brought him fame and fortune. In a way, most of the Grand Masters were thankful for Andion's adamant refusal. They were wary of the young man's powers, which were almost god-like. They also frowned upon Andion's hatred and bitterness towards the deities they worshipped, blaming the gods for the ills plaguing humankind. The epidemic they were facing now only increased the healer's anger towards the gods.
Still, Keelor suggested gently, "Perhaps it is time for us to accept that this plague is beyond our power to heal."
Andion's heated reply was expected. "No! I will not accept it! The gods be damned! I will find a cure for this terrible disease -- whatever it takes, no matter the cost!"
"Watch your tongue, my son! The gods might think that you are challenging them. Do not forget that you are mortal. You must accept your limits. You cannot fight what has been destined by the gods."
"If a battle is what they want, then I will give it to them! They must not be allowed to toy with human lives like this! I swear no one else will die under my care!"
Keelor grabbed the younger man's hands, showing him the bracelets on his wrists. Touching Andion's mask, he said, "You have done the best you can for these people. You have sacrificed a lot for them."
The Master Healer's brown eyes narrowed into slits. Keelor could see in his reaction that Andion was well aware of what he meant by "sacrifice", and it did not have anything to do with the plague that was decimating the village.
Andion pulled his hands back. He turned to gaze in the direction of the moors. "Nothing could be worse than the dragon. That's what everyone told me. But they were wrong. They were wrong about everything."
Before the Grand Master could speak, they were approached by one of the guards.
"What is it now?" Andion snapped at the man.
The guard cowered back from the young healer's anger. That display of temper was uncharacteristic of their kind healer.
Andion saw the fear in the guard's eyes. Bowing low, he apologized sincerely, "Forgive me for my rudeness. I didn't mean to snap at you like that. Is something wrong?"
The guard quickly regained his composure, seeing how haggard the healer looked, and the tear streaks that limned his mask and right cheek. He knew full well that the plague was taking a heavy toll upon all of them, Master Andion especially. Not even Grand Master Keelor could surpass what the younger man had been doing so far.
"There's a man at the gate, Master Andion," the guard at last answered. "He insists that he be allowed to enter the village."
"Did you not tell him that the village is quarantined, that we have a plague on our hands?"
"We did, sir, but he refuses to go. He is determined to enter."
"Just what I need! A fool!" Andion hissed under his breath. "Take me to him!" Turning to Keelor, he said, "I'll take care of this, Master. The last thing we need is to have the contagion spread. I'll return as soon as I deal with this idiot."
Keelor nodded. "I'll have Erwen call you if there is urgent need."
At this reassurance, Andion limped after the guard, going to the village gate. Strangely, an eerie white mist formed along the path.
This isn't natural, the Master Healer observed. It's almost like_
Andion was unable to finish the thought, when a dark shadow loomed before them.
"It's him, Master!" the guard whispered in his ear. "I don't know how he was able to get through!"
However, Andion already knew. The great power emanating from him was unmistakable, especially for someone who shares the same gift. Even if he did not have the acute sense to recognize a fellow healer, his clothes were a dead giveaway as to his profession. Then again, his lush green robes were unlike anything that Andion had ever seen. In this light, his robes shone with an iridescent glow -- like scales, the thought came to his mind. In his hand, he held a carved staff. The man was obviously a Grand Master Healer.
What caught Andion's eye, though, was the Grand Master's face. He had never seen such a handsome man before -- ivory skin, aquiline face tapering to a strong jaw and pointed chin, a distinguished nose, narrow lips curled up in a smile. His black hair reached down to his shoulder blades. It was the man's eyes that took the healer's breath away -- fathomless light green orbs flecked with gold. Eyes that brought a pang of loneliness to his heart. However, it was quickly replaced by anger.
"I would not proceed any further if I were you, my friend," Andion told him frankly. "Did not the guards tell you that there is a plague in this village?"
"Yes, they have, and they were quite insistent that I should leave," the man replied. "You should not work your men so hard. Poor things! They were quite exhausted. I told them to rest."
"If you harmed them in any way_"
"No, they merely sleep. Rest assured, no one will come after me."
"Why have you come here?"
"I have some_business_to attend to here, but it can wait. It seems my arrival is fortuitous. I can see my help is needed here. You are a healer, I believe."
"Yes, I am. As are you, I see."
The man nodded, not hiding his thrill at the prospect of working with Andion. "Good! We can help each other then. I am Grand Master Marsden."
"They call me 'Master Andionestes,' but 'Andion' would do."
Marsden gave him a strange look. "Quaint little name," he remarked, "but not your true name. It doesn't matter. Like you said -- Andion would do nicely."
The healer felt a chill run up his spine. How did Grand Master Marsden know that the name he was going by was not his real name! It's been nearly fourteen years since he last used his true name. Somehow, he had a disturbing feeling that Marsden knew the meaning of his name, 'Andionestes.'
The next two days proved to be tense-filled as Andion took on a subordinate role to the mysterious healer. If they were not visiting each of the patients, the two healers were locked inside Andion's herb laboratory, mixing strange concoctions from a variety of unlikely herbs and ingredients. If he had a choice, Andion wouldn't stay in one place at a time with Marsden. There was something oddly familiar about the Grand Master Healer, and it disturbed him.
To add to his unease, Grand Master Keelor never failed to make his objections to this new arrangement known to the younger man.
"We don't know who he is, Andion?" Keelor once confronted him. "How could you trust him like this?"
To this, Andion's constant answer was, "I told you, Master, that I would do anything to save the people in this village. Master Marsden knows things, cures I never thought existed. If he could help me find the cure to this plague_"
"Son, if both of you do find the cure, at what price will it be to you? Andion, I fear for you."
At that point, an angry Marsden entered the hurt, having overheard the two men's discussion. "If there is anything that Andion should be afraid of, it's you, Grand Master Keelor," the healer said snidely. "Since I arrived here, Andion has not lost a single patient yet, unlike you, old man."
"That's because you're a sorcerer!" Keelor spat out, leaving the hut in a huff.
"Please don't speak harshly to him," Andion begged Grand Master Marsden. "Like I, Keelor has been doing the best he could."
"I could see that," Marsden snorted in disgust. "I've wondered how many poor souls he has collected from this village."
"Excuse me?" Andion queried.
Marsden, however, waved his hand dismissingly. "Don't mind me! My mouth tends to run away with me sometimes."
The young healer, however, never forgot that curious remark.
The nights were just as unnerving. The precious little sleep he had was wracked by dreams, some of them good, some agonizing. All of his dreams were filled with flames. Good dreams or bad dreams_both never failed to bring tears to his eyes.
WHOOSH!
The child stopped dead in his tracks as columns of flames zapped past him. His brown eyes blinked several times in shock. It took two light taps of a pointed tail on his head to bring him back to his senses. Plopping down on his butt, the little boy opened his mouth wide, revealing two missing front teeth, and started to wail and weep a torrent of tears.
"WAAAH!" he cried pitifully. "You almost roashted me! I tot you were my fwiend! I'll tell my Mama! Just you wait and thee! Thee'll give you a shpanking for being a baaaad dwagon!"
The dreaded Dragon of Devil's Mound poked a clawed finger inside his ear. Taking a femur, he picked casually at his teeth with it. "I'm a bad dragon? I think your Mama doesn't like bad little boys even more."
The child's head whipped to the side to glare at the great Beaste. "I'm not a bad boy!" he declared in righteous indignation.
The Dragon lounged against a boulder, his left hand cupping his chin, while he wagged his tail. "Two ways to know if a child is bad." Raising his right hand, one scaly finger popped up. "First, good children do not talk to dragons their parents warned them to stay away from."
"But you're my fwiend!"
A second finger was raised, joining the first. "Secondly, good children do not steal."
"I didn't shteal anyting!"
"Really?" the Dragon said dryly. "And what's that you have in your hands?"
The little boy looked down at the huge gemstone cradled in his arms. He gave it a loving hug, cheek pressed on the smooth surface. "A vewy pwetty, vewy thiny wock!"
A cough escaped the Dragon's throat at that reply. "A ROCK? Don't you know what that is?"
"Itsh a wock!"
"Child, that's a diamond."
"Itsh a wock!"
"It's a diamond!"
"Itsh a pwetty wock! I'll put it bethide my candle and watch it make rainbow colorth on my wall."
"That is NOT a rock," the Dragon insisted, growling menacingly. "People would kill you if they see you hauling a diamond as large as that. It's worth a fortune. Why, you could buy the whole village with that one stone!"
The child looked at the Beaste in confusion. "Why would I want to buy the whole village? If I do that, all my friendsh will have no plashe to live. I only want it becaushe of the pwetty colorsh that thine from it when der's light."
"Maybe I should break it into little pieces and stick it in that place inside your mouth where you don't have teeth. You speak like an idiot!"
A pout formed on the little boy's lips. As his lower lip jutted out an extra mile, flapping miserably as a prelude to more tears, he said accusingly, "Why don't you justh admit dat you're a gweedy ole dwagon who doesn't want to thare? You've got all dese thiny stuff all over your cave, and you don't want to give me even just one pwetty wock!"
The Dragon breathed in exasperation, as he picked something out from his treasure trove. Reaching out, he took the diamond from the protesting child. Before the boy could burst into tears once more, the Dragon dangled a gold necklace with a diamond pendant right before his baby brown eyes.
"OOH! OOH!" the child exclaimed in glee, taking the necklace. His little fingers caressed the diamond. "Is dis for me?"
The mighty Beaste nodded, a semblance of a smile on his face, fin ears flapping. "Yes." Inwardly, he groaned, Just what I need -- a child with very expensive tastes. Sighing, the Dragon added, "It's a much safer size that what you were about to run off with. But I want you to promise me that you will not show this to anyone. It will be our secret."
The little boy placed the necklace around his neck, tucking the pendant under his shirt and the chain under his collar. "Don't worry! I'm good at hiding tings."
"So I see, child. So I see."
"Would you pleashe shtop calling me 'child'? I have a name, you know."
"You do?" the Dragon teased, eliciting a glower from the tiny figure below him. In truth, for the past six days that the wee pest had been visiting his lair, he had never thought of asking the boy his name. "Very well then. Would you be so kind as to introduce yourself?"
There was a moment's hesitation. Then, the little boy reluctantly mumbled, "Giselmeare."
That brought the familiar undesirable effect. "GISEL?" the Dragon rumbled in laughter. "But that's a girl's name!"
"It's Giselmeare!" the child declared indignantly.
"Pleasure to meet you. Gisel!" the mighty Beaste rolled around in his treasures in glee, clutching his aching belly.
"If you don't shtop teasing me, I'll cwy!"
That warning brought the Dragon's laughter to an abrupt halt. The boy had a wail that could shatter his eardrums. That day he stumbled upon little Giselmeare in the forest, while offering him bread, the child had lost his balance and fell flat on his face, knowing out two front baby teeth in the process. Giselmeare's ear-piercing howl of horror and pain at the sight of his two fallen teeth and the blood dripping from his mouth had sent every living creature in the moors, the Dragon included, scurrying into their burrows. Thankfully, the great Beaste had the presence of mind to throw a small healing spell at the boy and stopped the bleeding of his gums.
"All right_" Rather than say his name again, that would have brought another round of laughter, the Beaste concluded with "_son."
"What about you, Thir Dwagon?" Giselmeare queried. "What's your name?"
The Dragon cleared his throat and declared proudly. "It's Merscedenemantha."
The child stuck out his tongue. "That's an ickkier name dan mine."
"Excuse me! My name means 'Sacred Dragon Healer'."
"You're a healer?" asked Giselmeare in dubious amazement.
The Dragon nodded. "Yes_as you will be when you grow up."
"Nah! I want to be a knight."
"I thought you wanted to become a thief."
Giselmeare glared at the Beaste. "Nah! A gweat knight who's a gweat dwagon shlayer. But_" He grinned at the Dragon. "If my name gets picked in the lottery, I'll end up in your tummy and I'll give you a gweat big tummy ache!" He even made a wide sweeping gesture with his arms.
The Dragon gasped, "Gods forbid that I should have a human child wriggling around in my innards!" Then, to his surprise, the boy toddled over to him and laid his arms on a thick scaly leg.
"But I won't do any of those things, Merthy, because you're my dearest fwiend in the whole world."
"What_what is the name you just called me?"
"Mersce -- same as Mercy!" Giselmeare correctly pronounced. Laying his cheek on the Dragon's leg, he whispered, "I love you, Mersce!"
"Mersce!" the name escaped Andion's lips. As tears trickled from the corners of his closed eyes, he was unaware that he was clutching his precious diamond pendant in his hands.
"Dreaming again?" a voice suddenly asked him.
Andion jolted awake, sitting up, to behold Grand Master Marsden. The elder healer was seated beside him on the bed. Instinctively, he inched back to the headboard, still holding the pendant.
"What are you doing here?" demanded Andion. "How did you get inside my hut? Haven't you heard of the word 'privacy'?"
Instead of answering, Marsden handed him a cup of water. "Here. Drink this."
Andion tucked his pendant back inside the protection of his shirt. Gripping the cup with shaky fingers, he drank it all in one swallow.
Marsden smiled as he took the cup from the younger man and laid it on the table. "Good! Now that you're calm, we can talk business."
"I don't understand," Andion said quizzically.
"The medicine is ready, Andion. What do I get in return for it?"
The healer stared at the older man in shock. "You're a Grand Master Healer and you ask for payment? This violates our oath to serve and to safeguard the health and lives of our patients without asking for any reward."
"Oaths do not bind me," the Grand Master stated it as a fact.
"If I had only known, I would never have allowed you to enter this village. Keelor was right about you!"
"Come now, Andion!" Marsden declared. "I know how dedicated you are to your patients. If it were in your power to do so, you will not let these people die, even to the point of defying the natural order and destiny that the gods have ordained." He pulled out a bottle filled with a glowing green potion from within his robes, placing it before the healer. "Well, I deliver this medicine into your hands. But, as I said, what do I get in return?"
"We are a poor folk," Andion replied in resentment. "We have nothing to give you."
"I do not ask from your poor folk. I ask you personally."
Andion hesitated for a moment. With great pains, he removed the diamond necklace and held it out to Marsden. "This is the only thing of value that I own. I believe this is payment enough for your medicine."
Marsden, however, answered, "I am not interested in expensive baubles."
Wordlessly, Marsden reached out and tore the mask from the young healer's face. Andion gasped as he swiftly covered his face with his hands. But the older man gripped his wrists tightly, removing the clasp of the bracelets and letting them fall on the bedspread. Firmly, he eased Andion's hands down.
"Nasty piece of work!" the Grand Master clucked his tongue in disapproval.
The left side of Andion's face was completely burned, his cheekbone showing through the scarred flesh. The scarred area was in the shape of a hand. There were similar marks on both his wrists.
"These are not your only wounds, is it?" Marsden asked, his hands reaching under the blanket. The healer's skin crawled, feeling the man's fingers going up his long legs, pulling the blanket up along with it.
Horrified, Andion drew his legs close to his chest. "Keep your hands to yourself!"
Sighing, the Grand Master said softly, "I'm a lonely man, Andion. I want you, even for just one night."
The young healer gripped the blanket before him. Although he was wearing a bed gown, he could feel Marsden's eyes boring right through the fabric. "No!" he exclaimed. "You could ask anything from me, but not that!"
"I could heal your scars," Marsden enticed him. "You could be as beautiful as you were before."
"You cannot heal me! No one can! And even if you could, I will refuse your offer! I made a promise! I cannot do this!"
"It's been fourteen years! Surely the promise that has been extracted from you has long been forgotten." Marsden caressed the unscarred right side of Andion's face. "Don't you see how much I want you, even though you are disfigured and not a whole man? You don't know the pleasure that I could give you."
"The only thing you want is to take away my innocence and this I have sworn to give to him whom I truly love!"
Before the healer could get away, Marsden jerked him into his tight embrace. With utter viciousness, he yanked the blanket out of Andion's grasp and proceeded to tear the bed gown to shreds. Andion was frozen in terror and shame as his scarred form was unveiled completely to the older man. Helpless and weeping, he could only close his eyes as the Grand Master ran his hands over his scarred chest, with the dark scabs of flesh that were once rose pink nipples. As those loathsome hands descended, the fingers lingered on the blackened flesh of what were once his member and his testicles.
When that hand dipped even lower between his legs and a fingertip brushed against his opening, anger rose in Andion's heart. Kicking out, he screamed, "DON'T TOUCH ME!"
Marsden, however, grabbed his ankles. He pushed them up to the young man's chest that Andion's rosebud winked at him. "All this time_" the Grand Master whispered in surprise. "You have not known either man or woman."
"Because I belong to someone -- heart and soul. It is only to him that I will give my body. I swore an oath. I will not break my solemn vow."
"Then what about the medicine? What about your people?"
Andion's eyes fluttered close, realizing that he was trapped. To honor his promise or to save people's lives_it was a choice that tore at his soul.
Swallowing hard, Andion said, "Very well. Tomorrow, we shall distribute your potion to the people. You may_take_me on the night that the last person in the village is completely healed. If even one dies, the deal is off."
"All will live," Marsden stated in certainty. "That I assure you. Shall I expect you to come to me once everyone is saved?"
The young healer, however, shook his head. "No. I will never go to you willingly. Every fiber of my being rebels against it. It will have to be by force. When the deed is done, I intend to end my life. I cannot live with the shame of being an oathbreaker."
"Is the shame of being branded an oathbreaker much greater than the shame you had to live with for the past fourteen years?"
A frown creasing Andion's brow, he stared at the Grand Master in bewilderment. Marsden stood up and headed towards the door. He paused at the doorway, not looking back at the younger man.
"Andionestes -- 'He who was_taken_by a dragon,'" Marsden translated the name of the healer. "Tell me, Andion. Was it truly rape or did you learn to love a monster's touch to that of your own kind?"
Hours had passed since Marsden left his hut, but Andion remained awake. Naked and trembling, he was leaning on his side against the headboard, legs bent under him. His long red hair was draped over his face, shielding not only his burned left cheek but also the tears that streamed from his eyes.
"Merscedenemantha_my beloved Mersce," Andion whispered in deepest longing. "I need you now. Please come back to me."
Murmurings rose among the patients, causing both Marsden and Keelor to look up from what they were doing.
For the first time in fourteen years, Andion stood among them without his mask or the bracelets on his wrists, his disfigurement revealed for all to see. In his hands, he held a tray bearing cups and the potion that Marsden had concocted. Noting everyone's stares, for a moment, the young healer hesitated.
Then, a small voice called out, "Is that my medicine, Master Andion?"
Finding his voice, Andion went to the little girl lying on a pallet, saying, "Yes, Nissa. I have your medicine for you." He somehow managed a weak smile as he poured some of the potion in a cup. Carefully, he lifted the child a bit and gave her a sip.
As he laid her down once more, Nissa licked her lips. "I like it. It's like honey_very sweet. And_you know, Master Andion? It's strange, but I'm feeling a whole lot better."
Andion was stunned to see the dramatic change in the child. Pink color was returning to her ashen cheeks and lips. The dark rings around her eyes were slowly disappearing. To be certain, he pulled out a wooden cylinder from within his robes, placing one end over the child's chest while pressing his ear on the other end. The gurgling sounds of fluid in Nissa's lungs had vanished.
In his relief, Andion embraced the little girl tightly.
"I'm going to be well now, right, Master Andion?" Nissa queried. "Because of your medicine?"
"But I didn't_"
Marsden interrupted, "Yes, child. Thanks to Master Andion, all of you will be well at last."
The young healer's eyelids fluttered close to halt the well of tears. Small hands were laid on his cheeks.
"Why are you so sad, Master Andion?" Nissa asked, gazing up into the healer's face. "Aren't you happy that we're going to be fine now?"
"I'm very happy, Nissa, and so relieved. The past few weeks were truly exhausting for me. I'm glad that it's all coming to an end."
Without showing any signs of abhorrence, the little girl flung her arms around Andion's neck and bestowed a kiss upon his scarred cheek.
"Master?" the voice of old potter Cuthbert caught his ears. "Do you have more of that medicine for us?"
Andion smiled in reassurance. "I have enough for everyone."
Before he could stand, callused palms were laid over his hands. Andion looked up to find Grand Master Marsden smiling down at him.
"Let me help you with that," he offered, taking the tray from the younger man. "Go and get some rest. You deserve it."
Andion watched as Marsden distributed the medicine, dread rising inside his heart. What he had told Nissa was true. It was the beginning of the end. However, unlike his fellow villagers, the outcome for him would not be life but death.
In the days that followed, one by one, the villagers were healed. Even those they had deemed as not having long to live had a miraculous recovery. By the late morning of the eighth day, the last patient -- the village seamstress -- was cured. Everyone was in a festive mood, rejoicing at the miracle of the gods that have spared their lives.
Only one was in mourning.
Keelor walked up the small path, heading for the village cemetery. The Grand Master saw that each of the graves had a single blossom on top. The young man who had put them there was seated before a tiny grave, his crutch beside him.
"Andion_" Keelor slowly asked.
"Sometimes I wonder," Andion began softly, "if everything that has happened wasn't my fault."
"Why do you say that? Of course, you're not to blame. You didn't bring the plague upon the village."
"How could you be so sure?" The healer laid his hand over Levi's grave, tears trickling on his fingers. "All of these graves_they are simply memorials to Levi and everyone who has passed on. Nothing of them remained from the funeral pyres. Not even their ashes, blown away like snowflakes in the wind." He grabbed a handful of dirt and squeezed it hard. "Everyone I love_ gone_and it's all because of me."
"Why do you keep saying that, Andion?"
A bitter laughed escaped the younger man's lips. "Andion_Andionestes_ My real name is Giselmeare. I became Andionestes after what happened to me_and the Dragon."
Keelor lowered his eyes, unable to look at the junior healer. "I know. You need not tell me."
"Do you?" queried Andion. "Did you think that I was raped by the Dragon? None of you know what really happened to me that night! You don't know!" He clutched the diamond pendant tightly, pressed close to his chest. "I was sixteen years old, and a gifted healer_just like he told me. Since I was ten, he had been teaching me about my healing gift and how to use it. Everyone thought I was getting training from a healer residing in the woods. Oh, he was a healer all right, but he wasn't human!" Andion laughed bitterly. "I become overconfident and proud. After all, no healer could boast of having a great dragon as a mentor."
There was a shocked expression on the Grand Master's face as he looked at Andion.
The healer continued, "It happened five days before the lottery. My best friend_he drowned. I did everything I could to bring him back, but it was useless. The limitations of my abilities hit me right in the face. I couldn't accept that I was unable to save is life. Stricken with grief and guilt, I went to my beloved teacher."
Fourteen years ago
"My friend's dead," Giselmeare sobbed pitifully. He was lying on Merscedenemantha's open palm. The Dragon was running a comforting finger over the youngster's back. "What kind of healer am I that I couldn't save lives!"
"Don't weep, Gisel," Mersce said soothingly. "You've done the best you could. I deeply regret not telling you that there are limits to what we can do. We cannot save everyone, especially if the gods had ordained that a human's life would only be at a short length."
"But why? What gives them the right to rule on a person's fate like this?"
"Because they are gods, and the natural order of the universe is their responsibility. Life and death is in their hands. They decide if a new species should rise and old ones become extinct."
Giselmeare raised his head to look at the Dragon in shock. "Are you saying that the gods could annihilate all humankind? Surely the gods are not as cruel as you say."
"It's not as if they could do anything about it. As it is said, all good things must come to an end. One god, in particular, takes his duty very seriously -- the God of Death."
"Mersce, you speak as if you know him."
The Dragon did not reply at first. "Yes, I know the God of Death. He was responsible for the extinction of Dragonkind."
Giselmeare sat up. He hugged Mersce's finger. "Forgive me. I didn't know." The young healer shook his head in sorrow. "I'm so sorry, Mersce. My loss surely could not compare to the loss of your entire race."
"All loss should be mourned, whether it be big or small. We should never forget. It is in remembering them, and learning from our mistakes, that we could prevent more, even greater losses."
"Mistakes? You made mistakes, my friend?"
"The gravest mistake of all," the Dragon answered. "I didn't realize who he was until it was too late, when all my fellow dragons were dying. I tried to stop him by going to the underworld to steal the one device that could counterattack his Death Touch, but I failed. For daring to steal the Orb of Life, the God of Death cursed me by turning me into a death giver as well."
A gasp escaped Giselmeare's lips. "The virgin sacrifices."
"Yes," Mersce confirmed. "As you know, we dragons are not just flesh and blood. We are also giant furnaces, capable to laying to waste towns, villages, and even entire kingdoms by breathing flames from our mouths. We can control the fires inside us. The God of Death_ he changed me. When the fire builds up within me, it drives me insane with the agonizing pain unless I release it. Somehow, it is only the blood of virgins that prevents fire frenzy.
"I don't want to kill, Giselmeare. The last thing I wanted was to kill those virgins that your people sacrificed to me, but there is no other remedy for this_this curse. To sacrifice one life for the lives of all_ You don't know how painful it is for me to take even a single life. A life is a life. I am a healer; I save lives, not end them.
"I am thankful, at least, to our beloved Dragon Mother, the goddess of all Dragonkind, that none of the virgins suffer. She takes their souls to the heavens before I take their blood. Still, as I told you, a life is still a life."
Throughout Mersce's narrative, the healer remained silent. The Dragon simply waited for his reaction.
"The lottery is only five days away," Giselmeare spoke up at last. "If I were the virgin to be sacrificed, would you kill me?"
Mersce was taken aback by this question. Like the healer earlier, he was speechless. "I don't know, Gisel. I don't think I could. You are my friend. Actually, I consider you_more_than a friend. I've never felt this way for anyone before, even with one of my own kind."
Giselmeare smiled, running his hand over a scaly finger. "I feel the same way about you. The only time I'm truly happy is when I'm here in this cave with you."
"I know, and you have filled the void in my life. You make me wish I were a human instead of a dragon."
"Surely you jest!" the young man laughed. "You have been all over the world, seen different places and people, and you wish to be human?"
"I am the last of my kind, Gisel. I am all alone. I had no one_until you entered my life, with your charming smile and a loaf of bread. I would give anything for_ If only_"
Mersce hesitated and decided not to finish what he was going to say.
"If only what?" Giselmeare queried, noticing how uncomfortable the Dragon was. "Tell me, Mersce! If it is in my power, I will give it to you."
"It's not my place to ask."
"Tell me!" the healer insisted. "Nothing could ever repay the love and generosity you have showered upon me. Tell me what you want."
The Dragon squeezed his eyes tightly shut. When he opened them again, shiny tears started pouring from them. His green gold eyes were filled with anguish.
"I want you, Giselmeare," the Dragon blurted out, "I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you! I LOVE YOU!"
Giselmeare was stunned by this revelation. The great Beaste's declaration of love for him has his mind a-whirl. There was no mistaking the sexual content in those words as well. If they were to_ how could they possibly_ They were two very different species. Man and beast.
The Dragon turned away. "I know the impossibility of my heart's one true wish. That is why, on the eve of the virgin sacrifice, I will leave this land forever. The time of dragons is long gone. It is time for me to rejoin my kind in the afterlife."
Silence fell between them. Behind him, Mersce heard Giselmeare ask quietly, "Your goddess_the Dragon Mother_would she_would she listen to the prayers of a human too? Would she give me my heart's one true desire_the love for all eternity of my Dragon Mentor?"
Mersce whirled around in shock to behold the healer's tear-filled eyes and the gentle smile on his lips. There was so much love on Giselmeare's features that it nearly broke the Dragon's heart.
"Giselmeare_" the Dragon whispered, still refusing to believe what his eyes and his heart were telling him.
The healer, however, said, "I will pray fervently to the Dragon Mother that she allow our_joining. We are already one in heart and soul. Our physical union would seal our bond. On the eve of the virgin sacrifice, I will come to you, Merscedenemantha. I will belong to you, and only you."
Grand Master Keelor stared at Andion in horrified silence. "By the gods! You were in love with a dragon? This is insane!"
"Maybe I am insane," the young healer agreed with him, "but I cannot deny what is in my heart. I love Merscedenemantha so much -- so very much that I would willingly couple with a great Beaste."
Keelor was in deep shock. "Good heavens! This is forbidden by the gods!"
"You know as well as I do that I care not for the gods. Perhaps it was also an act of defiance on my part. The gods, particularly the God of Death, made my beloved Mersce suffer for all these centuries. He has taken away all the dragons in the world. If my Mersce is going to his realm, I will give him my love and my innocence to take along with him. With these precious gifts, he would know that he was not feared entirely by humankind. That there was one who loved him and will deeply miss him."
"Did you do it, Andion?" the Grand Master queried nervously. "Did you couple with the Dragon?"
The eve of the virgin sacrificeGiselmeare sneaked out of the village at midnight, heading for Devil's Mound. His heart pounded in elation as each step brought him closer and closer to his beloved.
For the past four days, the healer had been praying to the Dragon Mother, offering little sacrifices so that she would grant their love a blessing. He was confident that the goddess would be generous with her favors.
Reaching the cave, however, Giselmeare was seized by a moment of doubt. What if Dragon Mother denied their request?
The young healer clutched the diamond pendant close to his heart and offered one last prayer to the goddess. Dear Dragon Mother, this is the last time that Merscedenemantha and I will be together. Please, let this night be special for both of us.
Taking a deep breath to calm the fluttering of his heart, Giselmeare entered the cave, calling out, "Mersce? Mersce, I'm here!"
"Welcome, Gisel," the Dragon answered, but his voice seemed different. It didn't have the low, bassy rumbling quality that it used to possess. It was more like a human's -- a cultured baritone, well-modulated. A voice that caused his skin to tingle and his heart to go all a-flutter once more.
Giselmeare looked around the cave, but there was no sign of the Dragon anywhere. "Where are you, Mersce?"
Then, a figure emerged from the shadows. The healer's jaw dropped, a delighted gasp escaping his lips.
Before him stood a man, a bit older than him, but he was clearly not human. His entire body was covered with shimmering green scales, his hair ebony metallic strands. His face was still reptilian, although his snout was flatter, nearly close to a human mouth. The pupils of his green gold eyes were dilated with desire. He was an arm's length taller than the healer. What caught Giselmeare's eye was the impressive member hanging between the man's legs.
A shy smile quirked up the corners of the man's lips. "This is the best that Dragon Mother could do."
"Mersce_" Giselmeare found his voice. With a happy cry, he leaped into the Dragon's arms. "You look wonderful!"
In awe, Mersce ran his fingers through the healer's silky red mane. "I've always wanted to touch you like this."
"I hope that isn't all you're going to do," said Giselmeare with a teasing wink.
Gently, Mersce kissed him, easing the healer's robe down his shoulders, letting the garment fall at his feet. Breathless, the Dragon pulled away for a moment to drink in the beauty of the young human before him.
"Is that all right?" Mersce inquired. He has had experience coupling with females and males of his own kind, but never with a human as beautiful and as fragile as this. He knew that Giselmeare was still chaste, and he was overwhelmed by the healer's gift of his innocence to him.
"It was more than all right," Giselmeare muttered huskily. "Please, Mersce! Don't hold back on me now. I want you so much."
Nodding, Mersce lifted the young man in his arms, kissing him as he did so. He gently laid Giselmeare down on the stone altar, straddling him. The healer closed his eyes, relishing the feel of the Dragon's lips and hands upon his skin. That talented mouth caressed his face, the forked tongue plundering his ear and his oral depths. Trembling fingers of Mersce's right hand cupped his left breast, teasing a tiny nipple. The Dragon's left hand reached behind him, fondling smooth buttocks and a finger probing the cleft between them. Something large and hard brushed against his thigh. Giselmeare remembered Mersce's huge member. This is what he's been waiting for -- to know what it's like to be filled with the Dragon's rod. To know how it feels to be completely owned by another.
"I'm ready for you, Mersce," the healer whispered, parting his legs wide.
Before the Dragon could sheathe his member within him, Giselmeare felt heat, rising in temperature to the point of becoming unbearable. There was searing pain in his left cheek, causing him to cry out and struggle. Smoldering hands gripped his wrists, pinning him down. The body above him was like molten rock, burning away the flesh of his chest. The pain intensified, spreading to the area between his legs. Instinctively, Giselmeare released a pain-numbing spell, but the pain in his groin was too much to bear that he let out an agonized scream.
Hearing that scream, Mersce pulled away abruptly. Dazed and in pain, Giselmeare opened his right eye to see the horror on the Dragon's face.
"NO!" Mersce exclaimed, anguished tears streaming down his cheeks. "Dear Mother! What have I done?"
The Dragon placed a geas on the healer, trying desperately to heal his burns and ease his agony. To his dismay, he could feel his lover's life slipping away. Not knowing what else to do, Mersce lowered his face to Giselmeare's, their lips meeting. The Dragon breathed some of his life force into the mouth of the young man. However, because they were two different beings, his life energy only served to drag the healer away from the domain of the God of Death. It did nothing to heal the terrible burns on Giselmeare's body. He had maimed this beautiful human for life.
Giselmeare heard the Dragon's anguished roar. He looked up to find that his lover had reverted to his true form, the result of giving part of his power to the healer. Surprisingly, this included a large quantity of the great Beaste's healing gift. Mersce, with his breath of fire, sent a pillar of flame shooting up, blasting open a vent on top of the mound. It nearly broke his heart to hear the agony in that roar. Then, he saw Mersce unfurl his wings.
"Mersce, no!" the healer cried weakly, reaching out to the Dragon. "It's not your fault. We forgot that you are more dragon than human. Please don't leave me, Mersce! Don't go!"
However, Merscedenemantha shook his head, the weight of guilt heavy on his heart. "Forgive me, sweet Gisel, but I must go. Only one thing could heal you, and I swear I will get it this time."
Giselmeare knew immediately what the Dragon was planning to do. "No! I won't allow it! You're not going to the God of Death's realm!"
"I must do this! I cannot forgive myself for disfiguring you so horribly!"
"What need have I for physical beauty if I lose you? Mersce, please! I don't need the Orb of Life! I NEED YOU!" Saying this, the healer burst into heart-breaking sobs. "If you're going to leave me, then kill me now. This way, we'll be together forever in the God of Death's domain."
The Dragon fell to his knees beside the weeping human. "Gisel, please don't weep. You must understand. I have inflicted terrible injuries upon you. With what I've done, by hurting the one I love the most, I violated my sacred oath as a healer. Please let me redeem myself by finding the Orb of Life and healing completely the injuries I had given you."
"But Mersce_"
A scaly finger was laid an inch above his face. "No buts! Gisel, I will extract a vow from you, as I will swear an oath to you as well. I promise, my love, that I will return to you with the Orb of Life. In return, I ask that you wait for me, that you will be strong while I'm gone. Promise me this!"
Giselmeare held the diamond pendant tightly. "I swear it! No matter how long it takes, I will wait for you. But please come back! Come back to me, Mersce!"
"I promise, Gisel," Mersce nodded. "For the deep love I hold for you, I will return."
At these words, the Dragon flew up and out of the vent, soaring into the sky. Giselmeare watched until Merscedenemantha was nothing more than a speck on the moon's face.
"The villagers rushed to Devil's Mound when they heard the Dragon's roar," Andion continued his narrative. "There, they found me -- naked, my body almost burned completely. What shocked them the most was the sight of the charred flesh between my legs. A Master Healer from the nearby village was summoned. However, like Merscedenemantha, he could do nothing except to dry my wounds and ease my pain with herbs. He also revealed to me that, as a man, I was completely useless. Anyway, the villagers rejoiced at the departure of the Dragon. Surprisingly, none of them dared to plunder the treasures in the cave, fearing that it might be cursed. They even deemed me a hero for making the ultimate sacrifice which rid them of this scourge. They had no idea what truly transpired that night."
Grand Master Keelor could just imagine what life was like for the Master Healer after that fateful night. Dedicated to his duty, the young man was soon up and about, using a crutch to get around the village, dressed in a healer's green robes with a mask covering half of his face and gold bracelets on his burned wrists. With the Dragon's power added to his gift, he became a great and respected healer. The villagers started calling him by another name, 'Andionestes' -- "he who was taken by a Dragon." His real name of 'Giselmeare' was inevitably forgotten by all. He had heard from some of the elders that Andion would be seen in his hut, seated beside the window, weeping as he stared at the moon. Everyone believed he was still trapped by the terrible memory of his savage violation. Little did they know that the Master Healer wept for the loss of his one true love.
"Why are you telling me all of this now?" the elder healer queried.
Andion made a little shrug. "I don't know. Maybe it's because I stand to break my promise to Mersce. It was Marsden who concocted the potion that saved the lives of the villagers. In exchange, he wanted me." The healer smiled wryly. "You were right about him, Master. He is a sorcerer. I sincerely regret not listening to your warning."
A dark frown knitted Keelor's brow. "So, what do you intend to do now?"
"I told him that he would have to take me by force, because I am sworn to Merscedenemantha. Still, the loss of my innocence to Marsden is inevitable. If I do not surrender to him in the end, I fear that he might bring the plague upon the village once more. After he takes my chastity, I will take my own life. I cannot bear to see Mersce after giving my innocence to another."
Andion gasped when the Grand Master grabbed his arms, fingers digging painfully into his flesh. The benign features of the elder healer was transformed into a mask of pure rage that frightened the younger man.
"Master?" Andion whimpered, shrinking back from Keelor's sudden fury. "What is it? Please! You're hurting me!"
"You will not do this, Andion!" the Grand Master hissed in his face, shaking him roughly. "You will not couple with the Dragon OR Marsden! The gods forbid it! I FIRMLY forbid it! Do not mess around with forces you know nothing about!"
"I don't understand! What are you talking about?"
A ringing slap fell upon Andion's cheek. Before he could fall, Keelor yanked him upright. "WHORE! You have defied the gods long enough! I will not let you or your dragon lover stand in my way!"
Suddenly, a hard fist appeared out of nowhere, connecting with the Grand Master's face. The force of the blow sent Keelor flying a few feet away. That same hand grabbed Andion's arm. As the young healer was hauled to his feet, a strong hand supported him at the waist.
"MARSDEN!" Andion gazed in shock at the Master Healer's handsome visage.
Marsden's attention, however, was focused on Keelor. Pointing an angry finger at him, he declared, "You have interfered with fate long enough! You cannot stop me this time!"
Stunned by the sudden turn of events, Andion found himself lifted in Marsden's arms. As the elder healer carried him off, he heard Keelor raging after them.
The Grand Master roared, "Your lives are forfeit, do you hear me! You and your whore! Your souls shall be mine!"
To Andion's surprise, Marsden took him to Devil's Mound, the Grand Master's steps steady and sure as he made his way through the moors. Entering the cave, he conjured a shimmering mesh, blocking the opening against intruders. It was on the same stone altar that he laid Andion.
The young man cowered back from the Grand Master. "Marsden, I beg you! Please don't do this!"
Instead of answering, Marsden grabbed Andion's ankle and yanked the healer towards him. Andion struggled fiercely as the older man divested him of his robes. Pushing the young healer down on the slab, Marsden positioned him, with his arms stretched above his head and his legs spread wide. The Grand Master gestured again with his hand, and Andion was horrified to discover that he could not move.
A tear trickled from Andion's eye as he saw the older man removing his clothes. "Why are you doing this to me, Marsden? WHY?"
"Because_" the elder healer faltered a bit. "Because this is the only way that I could show you how much I love you."
"How? Through rape? I told you I belong to someone else! You have no right to take what could never be yours!"
Nimbly, Marsden leaped on top of him, totally naked. Entwining his fingers in the younger man's silky red hair, he demanded, "What does that dragon have in his favor that you would spread your legs to him and not to me?"
"That dragon loves me, as much as I love him," Andion spat back. "Mersce would never force his will upon another like you are doing to me now!"
"It doesn't have to be this way between us, Andion. Surrender to me. Give yourself to me willingly, and I will show you what true love is like."
"NO!" cried Andion. "NEVER!"
Marsden gritted his teeth. "Suit yourself, but I will have you!"
Andion closed his eyes in loathing as the Grand Master proceeded to have his way with his body. He winced as that disgusting mouth plundered his face and lips. Shaking hands fondled his scarred chest, fingers toying with the diamond pendant at his breast. Those hands descended to his burned member, cupping and stroking the length, but, as expected, no response could be elicited from it. Andion bit his lower lip as the Grand Master parted his limp legs and raised his buttocks, exposing his virgin orifice.
As the terrible realization of his imminent defloration hit him, Andion willed his mind to fill with the memories of his beloved.
"I'm so sorry, Mersce," the young healer sobbed as something hard pressed against his rosebud. "I've waited as long as I could, but after this, we could no longer be. Though my innocence will belong to another, know that my heart and soul are yours. Yours and yours alone. Forever."
Andion waited for that agonizing moment when his virgin opening would be breached. He waited_and waited_and waited. Instead, he felt Marsden move away to stand at the left side of the slab. There was a heartbreaking smile on his handsome face, tears pouring down his cheeks. With his head lowered, Andion could not see the older man's eyes.
"I never thought it possible," Marsden whispered, still disbelieving. "Waiting all these years, with innocence still intact_ What have I done to deserve such loyalty_and love? It is a love that must not go unrewarded."
The Grand Master raised his hands before his chest, forming a circle with his fingers. As healing power rose up inside him, the energy caused his hair to flutter, his body surrounded by a bright green aura. From the center of his chest, a golden globe emerged, radiating beautiful colors. Taking it in his hands, Marsden offered it to Andion, the globe an inch above the younger man's breast. Something inside the healer accepted the gift, and the globe entered his chest. At once, Andion's body was suffused by healing power of unimaginable magnitude. Such was the strength of the energy pouring into him that it healed his injuries completely, leaving him whole and beautiful once more.
Andion sat up, his palms touching his unmarked flesh. Fingers fluttered over his face, the cheeks wet with his tears of joy. He looked at the Grand Master in confusion. The answer to his unspoken question, however, was the sight of those glistening green gold reptilian eyes.
"Mersce?" Andion asked in disbelief. "Mersce, is it really you?"
Merscedenemantha's reply was to wrap his arms around the younger man, pressing eager lips upon the fuller mouth of Andion, his probing tongue tasting the moist depths of his lover. Starved as he was for Andion's beauty, kissing that lovely face was not enough for him. Like a snake, he crept lower, bestowing butterfly kisses upon the healer's breast. Andion shuddered in bliss as Mersce captured a nipple in his mouth and suckled upon the tight nub. Because of the power of the Orb of Life within the younger man, Andion's chest swelled with fluid. Groaning, he spurted milk from his tit, filling the Dragon's mouth.
"I want you, Mersce. Inside me," Andion mumbled, feeling his lover's erect member prodding against his thigh. "Please don't make me wait much longer."
Mersce gathered the slick fluids that dripped from his and Andion's aching rods, smearing his member with it. Hooking his lover's legs over his shoulders, the Dragon lifted those tight mounds, parting the crevice with his fingers. Taking a deep breath, he sheathed himself inside the healer's wanting channel.
Andion screamed in pain as his body was breached, but it was only momentary as his desire for his lover overwhelmed all else. He bucked against Mersce's thrusts, driving that hard rod deeper and deeper inside him.
As they neared the abyss of pleasure, the two lovers did not notice that they were enveloped by a sparkling golden aura. Standing at the precipice of desire, through love-misted eyes, they beheld the indescribable, incomparable magnificence of the heavens. But it was only a brief glimpse as they fell over the edge and into the rainbow- colored pool of love fulfilled.
Lying arm in arm on top of the stone slab, their sweat-drenched bodies still joined, both came to the realization that what they had shared wasn't enough. They had been apart for fourteen years. Here, in this cave of treasures, they had the perfect paradise to make up for the time they had lost.
Andion gazed appreciatively at his lover's lithe body silhouetted in the light of the full moon. Swinging his long legs down from the slab, he went towards Mersce, not minding the trickle of virgin blood down his thighs. Nearing the Dragon, he wrapped his arms around that trim waist, laying his chin on that pale, icy shoulder.
"Why don't you come back inside, Mersce?" he invited. "It's cold out here."
Mersce craned his neck back and kissed the young man's lips. "You know what we did is wrong," he put in quietly.
"So I've heard Keelor say many times," the healer answered in turn. "Even the love we share for each other is wrong, forbidden by the gods. Why is it so wrong for us to love? Is it because we belong to two different species?"
"I don't know. I've long since given up any attempts in understanding the motives of the gods. However, in the fourteen years that I've been parted from you, I have, at least, come to realize what drives the God of Death to perform his task with zeal. He fears the ascendancy of lower beings to the status of gods. That's why he brought about the extinction of dragonkind. Dragon Mother has shown that godhood was possible. Humans are a greater threat, because you are created in the likeness of the gods."
"I do not aspire to godhood," the healer stated firmly. "There are only two things that I desire -- to be with you forever and_" A sly grin quirked up Andion's lips. "Well, maybe steal away a few souls from Death's clutches. Like what we did during the plague."
Mersce gave his lover a smile. "Yes, but sooner or later, he will triumph in the end. You know what happened to dragonkind. It is inevitable that I too will join my people in the afterlife. I am expecting it, especially after I stole the Orb of Life from him. The God of Death is not a forgiving deity."
"Dragon," a voice suddenly called from the moors, "you are oh so right about that."
A beam of light shot out from the trees, aimed at the two lovers. Mersce pushed Andion out of the way. The healer's eyes were wide with horror as the death beam pierced through the Dragon's body, eliciting a scream from his lips.
"MERSCE!" Andion caught his lover as he collapsed to the ground in a bloody heap. The Dragon was barely breathing. "NO! DON'T YOU DARE DIE ON ME! DON'T LEAVE ME!' Desperately, he let his healing power flow out of his hands. To his dismay, however, Mersce's life continued to ebb, as though his soul were being drawn out of him.
From the woods, the black robed form of Keelor emerged. His eyes gleamed with a malevolent light. Keelor's glowing outstretched hand sucked out Mersce's life force, drawing it into him.
"KEELOR!" Andion gasped. "YOU! YOU ARE THE GOD OF DEATH!"
The old man nodded, grinning evilly. "When Merscedenemantha stole the Orb of Life from me, I knew that he would come to you. I thought why not kill three birds with one stone? I established myself as a Grand Master here, without your knowing that it was I who brought this plague upon you. This was to be the first step towards man's extinction. However, I did not count on the Dragon's using the Orb's power to disguise himself as a human. But now, after so damned long, his soul is mine at last. All that is left for me to do is to take your life as well, and retrieve my precious Orb. You have defied me long enough, Andion. It would please me greatly to add your soul to my infernal harem. I might even be generous enough to let your beloved Mersce watch while I bed you for all eternity."
"You will never have us, Keelor! I swear that you will never claim our souls!"
The God of Death burst into laughter. "Don't you know? The only way for Merscedenemantha to enter my realm is by dying. That was why he failed that first time to steal my Orb. Fourteen years ago, he succeeded at last. Mersce killed himself by plunging into the sea."
"YOU'RE LYING!"
"But it's the truth! The Dragon's already dead when he came to my domain. It was the Orb, acting upon his deep love for you, that returned his life to him. This was temporary, however. The minute he transferred the Orb to you, it was easy for me to forfeit his soul."
Tears streamed from Andion's eyes as he caressed his lover's cold face. "Why, Mersce? Why this sacrifice? I told you that I don't mind losing my physical beauty as long as I have you. Because of this damned Orb, I've lost you forever!"
Closing his eyes, Andion willed the Orb of Life to burst out of his chest, the golden globe surrounding him in a red aura. As he held it in his hands, he could feel the Orb rebelling against him. Andion knew that the sacred device read what was in his heart -- that he was planning to destroy it.
"Give it to me!" Keelor urged him. "GIVE IT TO ME NOW!"
Surprisingly, the Orb rebelled more strongly against being returned to the God of Death.
Then, the sacred device spoke inside his mind. "Heart and soul joined as one, let them forever be, united with the purpose of life and well-being."
Andion knew immediately what the Orb was telling him to do.
As the God of Death looked on in horror, the healer focused his gift, transforming the energy into a psychic blade, and cut the Orb of Life into two.
"NOOO!" Keelor shouted, hurling a fireball at him.
Before the ball could hit him, Andion slammed each half of the Orb into his and Mersce's chest. There was a blinding flash as the ball of flame struck the two lovers, trapping them within its furnace.
"YES!" the God of Death roared in triumph, watching the two lovers consumed by flames. "YOUR SOULS ARE MINE! MINE!"
However, a powerful female voice strongly countered, "THEY WILL NEVER BE YOURS!"
Suddenly, the great Dragon Mother appeared, snatching the ball of flame between her mighty jaws. With a loud crunch, the goddess extinguished the flames, causing an explosion of white light. As the light faded, in the center of her coiled form, as a clear sign of her favor and protection, stood Andion and Merscedenemantha in human form. The Dragon was attired in shimmering green robes, adorned with rubies and gold in the shape of a rising phoenix. The healer was wearing shiny red robes, with bits of jade, gold and emeralds embroidered in the form of a fiercesome Dragon.
"Death, behold your adversaries -- the Gods of Life and Healing," the Dragon Mother proclaimed. "No more shall you have absolute power over all the creatures on Earth."
"Do you think you've won?" Keelor spat out with disdain. "Life always ends in death. That is the natural order. All creatures come to me in the end!"
"That is true," the goddess replied. "However, you can no longer take life at your whim. Neither could you cause the destruction of an entire species, as you have done with Dragonkind. These two shall ensure that few creatures will remain, to flourish in the future. Extinction shall be no more."
The God of Death glared at the two lovers, his fury particularly focused on Andion. "A curse I place on your kind, healer. To them I give my hunger for conquest and destruction. It is they who shall cause the extinction of all life on Earth, even that of all humanity."
As Keelor laughed, Mersce looked at the young man in concern. This was a very strong curse, something two fledgling gods such as they could not break.
Andion, however, merely gazed in sorrow at the God of Death. What he said next brought the god's laughter to an abrupt halt.
"I pity you, Keelor, that you find happiness only in the sufferings and losses of others," Andion answered with deep regret. "You will never know the joy that life brings -- from the simple blooming of the rose to the birth of a child. Yours is a truly lonely experience, Keelor. If there is a way that I could give you even a moment's happiness, it would be an honor for me to do so."
The God of Death didn't speak at first, his cold heart stung by the healer's words. To his chagrin, it aroused a deep longing within him that he thought he had long since buried.
With a snarl, Keelor declared, "Nothing would please me more than beating you. Very well then! Let the games begin. We shall see who triumphs at the last!"
Saying this, with an exaggerated wave of his hands, the God of Death vanished.
When he was gone, Andion turned to the Dragon Mother. "This is a difficult task that you have given us to do, Mother. We can only hold him off temporarily. As he said, he will always win in the end."
"However, life is not a game, little healer," the goddess patiently explained. "Life is a cycle of ups and down, and yes, wins and losses. That is the natural order. What Keelor doesn't know is that death is never a win. For those who are left behind, it is a loss that will forever be mourned. I've known many souls in the afterlife who mourned their own passing. Why do they grieve? Because of opportunities lost, promises left unfulfilled, important responsibilities left undone. Life, thanks to Keelor, was too short for them to accomplish the things that need to be done. On the other end of the spectrum, you have lives that are irrevocably lost forever -- lives that once brought color and magic to this mundane existence. Dinosaurs, the mighty phoenix, the graceful unicorn_"
"And wise dragons," Mersce added sadly. "I think I understand what you want us to do. Not only do you want us to ensure the perpetuation of all creatures on Earth_"
Andion continued it for his lover. "You want us to prolong life so that each and every living being has the opportunity to fulfill his dreams and accomplish the role that he has been sent on this Earth to perform, because all things, all creatures, whether great or small, have a reason for existing." The healer nodded, a smile forming on his lips. "This way, death need not have to be a major defeat, but a resounding victory."
The fledgling gods knelt before the Dragon Mother. "We accept this duty you have given us, beloved Mother," said Mersce solemnly.
"I pray that we do not disappoint you," Andion intoned in all sincerity.
The goddess let a shower of twinkling golden lights rain upon them. "I know you won't, my dear healers. I know you won't."
Present DayThe little Black boy lay on a hospital bed, his mind shrouded by a dark cloud that left him unable to speak or move. This numbness, however, was better compared to the blinding, agonizing pain that ripped into his brain when the bullet pierced his skull.
Earlier, he had heard his parents talking, presumably to a police officer. A drive-by shooting, they said. Members of the Hispanic gang with a vendetta against the Blacks in the ghetto. A few minutes later, they were talking to the doctor. Murmurs he could not understand. This was followed by his mother's heartbreaking tears. He knew what that meant.
The child had no idea how much time had passed. He didn't know that a precious hour of his life had gone by. What did register to him was the sound of voices outside his room -- that of his weeping parents and the soothing baritone of a man.
"Nonsense, Madam!" the man declared, laughing. "Your son's not going to die!"
"But the bullet_in his head_" his father sobbed.
"It's nothing I tell you. I suggest you get some rest. Sleep now. I assure you your little boy is going to be fine."
There was a soft sound, like a sigh, then silence. Someone sat on his bed, a gentle hand laid on his brow. Suddenly, there was a light, like the rays of the sun seeping through his closed eyelids. For a moment, he thought that the terrible pain would return. Instead, the dark cloud was lifted from his mind. Still, he was afraid to open his eyes to see who his mysterious savior was.
"I know you're awake, Charlie," the man said kindly as fingers ran through the curly locks of his hair. "Here! I'm leaving you a souvenir that you could show your friends at school."
Charlie felt the man stand and he heard the door squeak open and close. Curiosity getting the better of him, the child got down from his bed and went out of his room. In the visitors' lounge, he saw that his parents had drifted off to sleep in two chairs. Charlie gave each a sweet kiss as he hurried after the man.
The little boy saw him walking casually down the hallway -- a tall, handsome white man with skin as pale as marble and a nose that's too big for his face. His long black hair was tied in a ponytail. He was dressed in a green sweater and tight blue jeans, leather boots on his feet.
As Charlie followed him, he was surprised to find that in every floor, every ward of the hospital they went to, everyone -- patients, nurses, doctors -- was sound asleep, blissful smiles on their faces.
The child saw the man enter the Nursery. Quietly, Charlie sneaked in through the door. There was another man inside the room. Now, he was a real beauty -- his features a perfect blending of the masculine and the feminine. He was dressed in black slacks and an opened shirt of red silk, a diamond necklace hanging from his long graceful neck. His lovely red hair hung freely down his bared shoulders. Loving brown eyes gazed down at the infant suckling at his breast.
"Is everyone all right?" he asked his dark-haired companion.
"Yes," the older man confirmed. "It's been a trying night, because of the shooting. I figured I'd give everyone a good night's sleep for a change."
"That's good." Standing, the red-haired man kissed the baby's brow and laid her inside the incubator.
"How is she?" Concern was written all over his friend's face.
The younger man smiled. "She'll be fine now. With her mother suffering from an infection, our little angel deeply longs for her Mama's touch, and a taste of her milk. Babies need the healing milk of their mothers during the first few days of their lives, Mersce."
"Thankfully, your milk is an excellent substitute." Mersce buttoned up his companion's shirt. "Anyway, by tomorrow, mother and daughter will be reunited. I cured her of her fever." He granted the young man a conniving wink. "I took the liberty of putting the order in her chart."
"I bet the doctor will be surprised."
"Not to worry. I planted the memory inside his head." Giving the younger man a loving smile, Mersce said, "You know, you look beautiful with a baby in your arms, Andion. You look like a mother."
A blush formed on Andion's cheeks. "Mersce? Actually, I need to talk to you about something."
Mersce, however, took his hand. "We can talk about it later. There's something I have to show you. An old friend."
There was a quizzical expression on Andion's face, but he nodded just the same.
Hiding behind a stack of bassinets, Charlie watched as the two men hurried out of the nursery. The child swiftly tailed them to the Fifth Floor, where they entered a small room. As he peeked through the door, Charlie heard a soft gasp.
"Avi_" Andion whispered, looking at the old man lying asleep on his bed.
Suddenly, a cold voice spoke from the chair in the far corner of the room. "Don't interfere."
Poking his head through the door, Charlie saw a distinguished old gentleman stand from his seat, fixing his tweed jacket as he did so.
Mersce remarked wryly, "Why am I not surprised to find you here, Keelor."
"He's mine!" Keelor said covetously. "Thanks to you, Avi Bergstrom got away from me that first time."
"Why?" Andion exclaimed. "Are the thousands of souls you gathered from Auschwitz not enough for you?"
To the two men's surprise, the God of Death suddenly pleaded, "Please! Let me have this one soul!"
However, Mersce shook his head. "I'm sorry, but Avi's mission is not yet completed. He has yet to tell his version of the Holocaust to the one person who needs to know -- his grandson."
"Hah! That little brat cares more about getting the latest violent video game than listen to stories about dead Jews!"
"Never underestimate the power of truth," Andion said solemnly. "With time, the child will listen. He and the other descendants of the survivors of that genocide you had instigated in the mind of a mad man will prevent such terrible killings from happening in the future."
Keelor glared at the two men. "This is your victory for now. But I always get them in the end. Avi Bergstrom's soul shall be mine!"
"Because that is the natural order of things," Mersce concluded wearily. "We already have your speech memorized word for word."
The younger man motioned his companion to silence by shaking his head. Turning to Keelor, Andion began, "We never considered this a game from the start. More than anything else, we value the quality of life of every living being. If they have done well with their lives, it is easy for them to accept their inevitable end. In a way, we make your task a lot easier to perform." Giving the God of Death a tender smile, he said, "When that time comes, I'm sure Avi will be waiting for you with welcoming arms. Just like the children at Dachau. I've seen how kind you were to them. Thank you, Keelor, for bringing them to the heavens."
Keelor turned away, lest the two men see the tears in his eyes. "It's the least I could do. They are children after all."
"Till the next time we meet," Andion told him, "may you always be blessed with happiness and good health."
After what seemed like an eternity, a semblance of a smile crossed Keelor's face. Bowing to the two men, he said, "I wish the same for you," as he slowly faded from sight.
Charlie was frightened by what he had witnessed. Before he could flee, Andion looked at him and raised a hand to him.
"Come, Charlie," he said kindly. "Mersce and I will bring you back to your room. I think you've seen enough for tonight."
A tiny voice inside the child's heart told him that they could be trusted. Taking Andion's hand, he asked, "Are you angels?"
That caused the two men to burst into laughter. "Not_exactly," Mersce answered hesitantly. "Andion here is a healer, while I am_ Do you believe in dragons, Charlie?"
The child shook his head. "Dragons don't exist. They're just fairy tale stuff."
Mersce and Charlie chattered all the way back to the child's room, causing Andion to wave a hushing finger at them before they ended up waking the boy's parents. As Mersce closed the door, the child saw the bullet lying on his pillow."
"Thank you, Mister," he told Mersce gratefully, "for saving my life."
"All in a day's work, son," the older man said nonchalantly. "All in a day's work."
"Charlie," Andion knelt before the child. "I don't want you joining any street gangs, you hear me?"
"Uh, uh! I want to be a preacher like Jesse Jackson or a politician like Martin Luther King."
Andion grimaced. "Better stay out of politics, and the rap music industry too."
"But I like rap," Charlie argued.
Mersce put in, "Some rap is good. As long as it's not gangsta."
"Mersce, do you mind?" the younger man growled. "I'm trying to talk this boy out of getting himself killed."
"Andion, we could check on Charlie from time to time."
"I know, but_" Andion rubbed his belly. "I thought I'd take it easy for a few months."
Mersce cocked an eyebrow at the healer. Then, his eyes popped wide, "Are you telling me that you're_"
Andion snorted. "You have your overactive libido and this blasted Orb to thank for my present_condition."
"YAHOO!" Overjoyed, Mersce lifted Andion in his arms, whirling him around and around.
"Wait! Wait!" cried Andion breathlessly, as he laughed. "I still don't know if it's a baby or I'll end up laying an egg!"
"I don't care, as long as it's ours."
Charlie grimaced in disgust as the two men embraced and kissed each other tenderly. "YUCCKKK! Are you guys gay or something?"
"Of course we're gay!" Mersce declared, pinching the boy's cheeks. "Can't you see how happy we are?"
"That's not what I meant!"
Andion bent down and bestowed a loving kiss upon his brow. "Stay safe, Charlie. I'm sure we'll see each other again someday."
Right before his eyes, the two men disappeared in a shower of twinkling lights. Outside his window, he heard two familiar voices call out, "Goodbye, Charlie! Take care of your parents!"
Running towards the window, a most astounding sight greeted the child.
Flying outside his window was a huge dragon. Sitting on its back, dressed in shimmering red robes, his red hair fluttering behind him like flames, was Andion. The light of love shone in their eyes. Andion blew the child a kiss while the dragon granted him a wink as they flew up into the starry night sky.
Mersce's question to him earlier echoed inside his mind.
"Do you believe in dragons, Charlie?"
A broad smile formed on the little boy's face as he watched the great Beaste and his handsome rider, their forms dark silhouettes in the face of the full moon.
"I believe," whispered Charlie happily. "Yes, I believe."
THE END
