Chapter 7 #2
Vyrathion snorts. "Let him believe it. Confidence is useful. Perhaps he'll eventually become competent."
Before I can answer, the dragon glances upward through the canopy. His expression changes. Only slightly, but enough that I notice.
"What is it?"
He remains silent for a moment. "Something large just landed nearby."
The little Plood immediately presses against my leg again. I don't think that's a good sign.
Vyrathion remains motionless, listening.
I try to do the same, but all I can hear are the ordinary sounds of the jungle settling into night. Big insects buzz somewhere overhead. Leaves rustle against one another. Something distant croaks from a swamp or pond.
None of it sounds particularly alarming, just the normal noises of the jungle at night.
The little Plood clearly disagrees. He presses himself against my leg so hard that I almost lose my balance.
The dragon's eyes narrow slightly. "It's moving."
I look around uneasily. To me, it looks like everything is moving. "What's moving?"
"The thing that landed."
That answer does absolutely nothing to help me identify the problem.
It only confirms that there is one. Vyrathion turns his head slowly, listening to sounds I apparently can't hear, while I stare into the darkness between the trees and imagine every possible nightmare this planet might have invented.
The little Plood tightens his grip on my ankle. "That's encouraging," I mutter. He keeps telegraphing his emotions through some kind of telepathic channel, and his fear is getting to me.
"It should be," Vyrathion replies. "His instincts continue to exceed his intellect."
A few moments later, the undergrowth ahead begins to move. At first I think it's only shadows moving in the darkness, or some harmless creature that will spot Vyrathion and flee. Then branches bend aside. Leaves tremble. Something large is forcing its way through the jungle.
Very large.
For one awful instant, I think another dragon is about to emerge.
Instead, a gigantic dinosaur pushes through the vegetation and steps into the open. It stands nearly twice as tall as Vyrathion and many times broader. Dark armored plates cover its body. A massive horn curves from its nose, while shorter spikes jut from its shoulders and neck.
The creature looks as though someone combined a rhinoceros, a tank and a dinosaur, then decided it wasn't dangerous enough and added more armor and some spikes for good measure.
And wings, of course. Huge, bat-like wings every bit as large as those of a Boeing. Except these can clearly flap. It could almost have been some kind of dragon, but it’s too ugly for that. This is more like a pterodactyl, just much bigger and heavier.
The beast notices us and comes to a halt, folding its wings up under its hard carapace. I notice that Vyrathion doesn't move at all.
The animal lowers its head.
I try to back off more, but the tree is in the way. "Oh.”
"Ah," Vyrathion says. "One of those."
I glance at him. "Are you familiar with them?"
“Regrettably I appear to be completely surrounded by lesser species in this ludicrous jungle. They all gravitate to me with immense haste, Or rather, to you.”
“Sorry. I’m not sure he’s here for me, though.”
The creature scrapes one enormous foot across the ground. Dirt sprays behind it. Steam billows from its nostrils despite the warm air. Everything about it suggests bad decisions are about to be made.
Vyrathion gives me an evil look. “We should find out. Perhaps we can offer you to him and see if he likes it. Yes? Worth a try to find out?”
"No, no," I plead. “I’m sure he’s here to eat me. Can you please… make him go away?”
Vyrathion looks at the monster. "It seems the opinion of our group that you should withdraw back into the sewer you call a jungle and likely your home. You are making some of us nervous. Off you go."
The beast bellows and launches itself forward. The ground immediately begins to shake.
I grab the little Plood under one arm and retreat behind a thick tree trunk. The creature crashes through bushes and young saplings as it builds speed. The sheer size of it is terrifying. I've seen large animals on Earth, but nothing that combines this much mass with this much aggression.
“I meant, go the other way, whence you came.” Vyrathion waits until the last possible moment before casually stepping aside.
The horn misses him by inches.
As the animal rushes past, he strikes it with one hand.
The sound echoes through the jungle like an axe biting into a tree.
The enormous creature stumbles sideways, tears through a patch of undergrowth and crashes into several saplings before finally regaining its footing, head hanging so low the horn scraped the ground.
For a few seconds both of them simply stare at one another.
Then Vyrathion looks down at his hand.
"Hm."
The beast bellows again and paws at the ground like an angry bull.
"Vyrathion, are you all right?" I call.
"Not at all,” the dragon growls. “I’m stuck on a planet in this cursed form, having to fight beings that should by rights flee in terror. And now I have to ponder the possibility that I might be getting weaker still."
I don’t like that answer. But I know it’s a thing for dragons to weaken without gold.
The animal charges again. This time Vyrathion doesn't move aside.
He plants his feet and reaches forward as the creature bears down on him.
When his hands close around the horn, the entire charge seems to stop.
Dirt sprays. Roots tear loose from the soil.
The beast strains forward with all its weight behind it.
And for the first time since I met him, I think I see Vyrathion exert himself.
Only a little and only for a moment. But enough for me to notice, as his muscles and sinews tense up and stand out on his achingly perfect skin with a hint of the scales underneath.
Then he twists sharply. The creature loses its footing and crashes onto its side with a thunderous impact that shakes the ground beneath my feet. Before it can recover, Vyrathion strikes it once on the side of the head.
There’s a sickening sound and the beast goes limp. Its wings pop limply out of their covering plates. Silence returns to the jungle.
Vyrathion brushes dirt from his hands, making a face of distaste. “Of course that thing is thick with grease on the outside. In a way I hope I didn’t kill- ah.”
The monster comes to, kicks its leg and manages to turn right side up. Then, dragging its wings, it slinks away, something I would never have thought possible from a dinosaur that has to weigh several tons.
Vyrathion tries to scrape the dinosaur fat off his hands on the tree I hid behind. “At least now it won’t rot right in the middle of our camp. If you still maintain that you need a rest.”
"Did it have gold?" I ask, hearing the silliness of the question.
"Infuriatingly, no."
I put the little Plood down. "You actually checked?"
Vyrathion sends me an annoyed glance. "Of course I checked. He might have eaten some by mistake. Surely other creatures must also realize the attraction of that sweetest of all substances? Surely they must feel its value? I mean, this one even had wings!"
I pick up a twig and hold my hand out. “Let me help you get clean.”
“Oh, very well.” The dragon graciously gives me his big, clawed hand and I do my best to scrape the grease off it.
It’s a thick, rancid grease with a smell that makes me want to retch, completely out of place on the dragon with his otherworldly beauty and demi-god aura.
And yet, I have seen him bleed gold and now I have to help clean him.
After he’s saved our lives from a giant monster with an ease that I know I might never see from anyone else.
I finish with one hand. “May I see the other one?”
Vyrathion gives me that to clean, too. When I’m done, I toss the twig away, then pull at his arm. “Can you come down?”
“Don’t tell me that thing somehow dirtied my hair-” he begins as he bends down, then breaks off as I kiss his cheek. “Thank you for saving me.”
The gesture happens before I've decided to do it. It may be my only chance to kiss a dragon, and right now he feels almost human.
He stares into my eyes from close by, the light in them piercing me to my soul as he squeezes my hand in his. For a moment I think I made him mad, and my heart starts racing again.
“S-sorry,” I stutter. “I didn’t mean to--”
He calmly straightens, keeping a hold of my hand. “I suppose it is an appropriate sign of awe and respect. At least you smell better than that creature.”