BOOK ONE
CHAPTER THREE
“Dragons are not born, we are forged,” Mo began, after her last bite of dinner. “All the dragons now alive were made in the fires of the Underworld by Hades himself in an effort to win over his young wife. He designed a host of magical creatures wanting to prove to her that he was not just a god of death, that he could create as well. He worked with great care, meticulously constructing every mold, and breathing a particular magic into each new life. When Persephone saw the dragons, she smiled for the first time since coming to the Underworld. Hades had high hopes she would now choose to stay with him year round. That winter, instead of locking herself in her bedchamber, Persephone stayed in the open with her husband, playing with the dragons every day, naming each one. To perfect Hades’ pleasure, she asked if she could make a dragon of her very own. He taught his young bride how to create the mold, how different minerals would affect the creature’s color and personality, and most importantly, how to infuse the animal with magic through her own breath of life. Out of this, I was born, but due to Persephone’s inexperience at forging, there was a flaw in the mold. I came with an extra bit, my diamond, the North Star.”
“So it’s like a growth?” Sasha interjected.
“More like a twin,” replied the dragon curtly. “Or a second heart. It’s not just a thing, it’s part of me. Even though Persephone adored us, she refused to stay in the Underworld year round. Hades considered this a failure on our part. He grew abusive towards us during the summer months, me particularly. After a while we dragons, in what might be described as teenage rebellion, started leaving the Underworld to start our own lives. Though he regarded us as pets, Hades’ gave us intelligence equal to his own, a mistake on his part to his detriment and ours.”
“How to yours?” the Prince asked.
“We’d all be better off if we were just stupid animals, don’t you think?” The Prince, intimidated by such lackadaisical cynicism, nodded stupidly. “I stayed as long as I could for Persephone’s sake, but Hades’ wrath became too harsh and too frequent to bear. Eventually we all left except for a few, the loyal ones, the favorites, one of them being Demetrius, our green friend now locked in that cell. Depressed by our abandonment, Persephone once again took to her room. Hades came up to earth to demand our return. We refused, so he declared war on us believing, as many gods do, that if he didn’t have dominion over our wills, he certainly had it over our lives. We tried to run, but he chased us. We scattered but he started picking us off one by one. We regrouped and decided to fight altogether, one great battle. He fought mercilessly, many of us died, and the rest did nearly. When it ended, he walked among us to assure himself of our total defeat. He found me injured, lifted me up, shook his head with a sneer on his face, and was about to end my miserable life when I closed my eyes and made a last wish. All of a sudden, my North Star exploded with energy, flooring the both us. When we came around, Hades looked at me as if he did not recognize me at all, then simply strolled away.”
Moriandra went quiet for a minute, then took a large draught of wine and continued. “The magical power that Persephone bestowed in me is one of transformation, physical transformation. Now I am human, but I can become any animal I desire. North Star has the power to transform the minds of others; to bend their wills to mine. That day on the battlefield I discovered this power, though I didn’t understand the depth of it. Hades changed that day. Years later, when the other dragons cast me out, I hoped to find a home again with my creator, but after our battle, Hades stopped hunting us, yes, but he also lost interest in pleasing his wife altogether, and his perpetual cheating made a bitter woman of her. She did not welcome me.”
“Why did the dragons cast you out?” blurted out Sasha. Moriandra hesitated answering. She had not spoken with others like this in quite some time and had forgotten how it worked; that it could be uncomfortable at times. She cursed herself for having broached the subject and considered kicking her companions out on the spot, or maybe just murdering them. Luckily for our heroes, she chose instead to persevere with this conversation thing.
“I have not always had the serene countenance you see before you, and dragons, like humans, are fickle creatures. After defeating Hades, my friends lauded me as a hero, a savior, and they put me in charge. But I knew nothing of the world of humans, none of us did. We were young, I the youngest of all, let loose on a country about which we knew nothing. We ate what we pleased; lived and slept where we liked, flying here and there in plain sight. We didn’t think of what we were doing as stealing or terrorizing, but the natives did. They took us for monsters, and soon made a sport of hunting us. Thanks to Hades’ spiteful war, our numbers had dwindled, and in those early years on our own, we lost even more. Dragon slayers ran us ragged. Life grew even harder than it had been below. Always running. Always fighting. Never eating. Never resting. Even though I was the leader, I had no grand plan, no solutions to our problems. I was a child!” Moriandra spilled some wine on herself. She dabbed the spill with a cloth, taking deep breaths. “Some of us tried to return to the Underworld, but Hades now regarded dragons as nothing more than pests, and expelled every last one, even the ones who stayed with him through everything. Can you imagine that?” Moriandra was getting the hang of this talking thing. If felt good all of a sudden. “They all turned on me. Blamed me for our sorry state. Blamed me for everything. And I--I didn’t take their rancor lying down.” Wait, no, talking is intolerable. Damn these humans for coming here! “And that’s the end of the story. They kicked me out and I left.” Moriandra filled her cup, trapped in a bitter memory. Sasha and the Prince exchanged a glance. “But that was a lifetime ago. Many, many lifetimes by your standards. I found this place and have been perfectly content ever since. My ability to change shape allows me to move among people unmolested.”
“What other forms can you take?” Sasha asked excitedly.
“Any animal with four appendages and a head,” Mo replied, getting that pleasant feeling again.
“Not a table or a statue or something?”
“No. Only living things. That would be too boring, anyway.”
“And what about your clothes?” Sasha asked, fingering the strange material of her dress. “When you become something else, do they just fall off you?”
“That’s part of the transformation, actually. You’re touching skin.” Sasha swallowed her vomit.
“Moriandra,” the Prince squeaked, barely audible, yet something in his manner elicited attention. He cleared his throat, his body and voice shaking. “May I ask what form were you in when you were with my mother?”
“I took many forms over the course of our time together.” Moriandra responded, suspicious of the question.
“And how long was that?” inquired the Prince, somewhat surprised by her answer.
“A few months.”
“A few months? And in that time, did you ever take the form of a man?”
“No.”
“Not even once?”
“This is the form I take when I choose to look human.”
“So you didn’t... You couldn’t....”
“What are you asking?” Mo demanded loudly.
“You are not my father, then.” The dragon-in-human-form blinked twice, then burst into laughter.
“No!” she chortled. The Prince sighed, relief and disappointment together.
“Growing up, I heard stories that the Purple Dragon, that you fell in love with my mother, that you fathered me. I see now that could not be.”
“Even if I did appear masculine I could not be your father. All dragons are asexual; incapable of reproducing. No matter what form I take, I can neither father nor mother children.”
“But, you’re so clearly…” Sasha started.
“Most of us mentally adopted a gender,” Mo explained. “As for falling in love with your mother, impossible. A spoiled brat and ingrate...not to mention the reason I ended up in that cell.”
“How? What happened all those years ago?” The Prince tried to calm himself. He had asked his mother so many times about this time in her life, but she always deflected the question, claimed amnesia, lashed out, or asked what difference it made. The curiosity had carved a hole in his brain that Moriandra was about to fill with knowledge. He held his breath.
“I don’t remember much, I was drinking quite heavily back then.” The dragon swigged her flagon, and the Prince felt a spasm of laughter in his abdomen. He breathed normally once more. “Here’s what I will tell you. One morning, I woke up and she was gone, and since that day, not only has North Star been dark, I haven’t been able to return to my dragon form.”
“How did she manage--”
“No idea. But soon the kingdom came to believe that I had died or had gone soft or something. Hell, I attended a party in a nearby village celebrating my own disappearance!” Mo sniffed. “It was pretty fun, actually. But my prolonged absence caught the attention of Demetrius here, and he got it in his head that if I was dead, he could come and claim the North Star for himself and use it to fix Hades. But instead he found me alive, unable to defend myself. So he locked me in my cell to punish and torment me.” Moriandra smiled wryly. “He didn’t realize that I’m un-punishable.”
After dinner, Sasha found the Prince examining the only piece of art displayed on the gloomy cavern walls, the image of a labyrinth. “My mother used to draw this for me as a child, to keep me entertained. I must have solved it a hundred times growing up.” Sasha marveled at the complexity of it, admired the intricate little illustrations throughout including a tiny purple dragon near the center of the maze. She gasped.
“This is a map of the mountain!” Sasha realized.
“That’s how I knew which way to go,” corroborated the Prince. “I can imagine her standing here, committing every detail to memory, planning her escape.”
“If it was an escape at all. Mo was pretty vague on that point.” They looked at the dragon, passed out on one of her many beds.
“What about our escape?”
“Good question. Do we still want to make a run for it? Head to some deserted island and start fresh?”
“Sure, there must be tons of unknown islands where my mother’s hired assassins and professional trackers will never find us.”
“Disguise ourselves as hill folk and live out our days yodeling?”
“Tempting. What are our other options?”
“Double suicide?”
“Not really in the mood for that.”
“Stay here forever?”
“That’s just the double suicide option all over again.”
“Then what do we do?”
“Good question.”
“Let’s sleep on it.”
They slept on it. The next morning, Sasha and the Prince had their plan.
“We’re going to complete the three tasks,” the Prince told his host. “I don’t suppose there’s any way we could borrow your diamond for a bit? You know, since we rescued you and all.”
The dragon laughed out loud. “Certainly not. You might as well ask to borrow my hand or my spleen. I won’t be parted from it.”
“Then come with us!” Sasha chimed. Again, the dragon laughed aloud.
“Why would I do that?”
“It’s obvious from this room you spend too much time in bed,” replied Sasha. “You are overdue for an adventure.” The dragon laughed again.
“You are quite persuasive, little one. I’ll tell you what, you have made me laugh and for that I am grateful. But laughter, being pleasant, is easier given than tears. If you can make me now cry, I’ll join your group gladly.” With that, Sasha took her lute and began to play. Despite her renown as a peddler of enjoyment, she could induce weeping as capably as she could dancing. She sang a sad tale of lovers separated by the sea, and not halfway through, the song had reduced Moriandra to a blubbering mess. “Very well,” the dragon said sniffling. “I will come with you. We’ll leave in the morning.”
“Thank goodness,” replied Sasha. “Because there are some people waiting for us outside, and we’re really going to need your help to get by them.”
“So it’s like a growth?” Sasha interjected.
“More like a twin,” replied the dragon curtly. “Or a second heart. It’s not just a thing, it’s part of me. Even though Persephone adored us, she refused to stay in the Underworld year round. Hades considered this a failure on our part. He grew abusive towards us during the summer months, me particularly. After a while we dragons, in what might be described as teenage rebellion, started leaving the Underworld to start our own lives. Though he regarded us as pets, Hades’ gave us intelligence equal to his own, a mistake on his part to his detriment and ours.”
“How to yours?” the Prince asked.
“We’d all be better off if we were just stupid animals, don’t you think?” The Prince, intimidated by such lackadaisical cynicism, nodded stupidly. “I stayed as long as I could for Persephone’s sake, but Hades’ wrath became too harsh and too frequent to bear. Eventually we all left except for a few, the loyal ones, the favorites, one of them being Demetrius, our green friend now locked in that cell. Depressed by our abandonment, Persephone once again took to her room. Hades came up to earth to demand our return. We refused, so he declared war on us believing, as many gods do, that if he didn’t have dominion over our wills, he certainly had it over our lives. We tried to run, but he chased us. We scattered but he started picking us off one by one. We regrouped and decided to fight altogether, one great battle. He fought mercilessly, many of us died, and the rest did nearly. When it ended, he walked among us to assure himself of our total defeat. He found me injured, lifted me up, shook his head with a sneer on his face, and was about to end my miserable life when I closed my eyes and made a last wish. All of a sudden, my North Star exploded with energy, flooring the both us. When we came around, Hades looked at me as if he did not recognize me at all, then simply strolled away.”
Moriandra went quiet for a minute, then took a large draught of wine and continued. “The magical power that Persephone bestowed in me is one of transformation, physical transformation. Now I am human, but I can become any animal I desire. North Star has the power to transform the minds of others; to bend their wills to mine. That day on the battlefield I discovered this power, though I didn’t understand the depth of it. Hades changed that day. Years later, when the other dragons cast me out, I hoped to find a home again with my creator, but after our battle, Hades stopped hunting us, yes, but he also lost interest in pleasing his wife altogether, and his perpetual cheating made a bitter woman of her. She did not welcome me.”
“Why did the dragons cast you out?” blurted out Sasha. Moriandra hesitated answering. She had not spoken with others like this in quite some time and had forgotten how it worked; that it could be uncomfortable at times. She cursed herself for having broached the subject and considered kicking her companions out on the spot, or maybe just murdering them. Luckily for our heroes, she chose instead to persevere with this conversation thing.
“I have not always had the serene countenance you see before you, and dragons, like humans, are fickle creatures. After defeating Hades, my friends lauded me as a hero, a savior, and they put me in charge. But I knew nothing of the world of humans, none of us did. We were young, I the youngest of all, let loose on a country about which we knew nothing. We ate what we pleased; lived and slept where we liked, flying here and there in plain sight. We didn’t think of what we were doing as stealing or terrorizing, but the natives did. They took us for monsters, and soon made a sport of hunting us. Thanks to Hades’ spiteful war, our numbers had dwindled, and in those early years on our own, we lost even more. Dragon slayers ran us ragged. Life grew even harder than it had been below. Always running. Always fighting. Never eating. Never resting. Even though I was the leader, I had no grand plan, no solutions to our problems. I was a child!” Moriandra spilled some wine on herself. She dabbed the spill with a cloth, taking deep breaths. “Some of us tried to return to the Underworld, but Hades now regarded dragons as nothing more than pests, and expelled every last one, even the ones who stayed with him through everything. Can you imagine that?” Moriandra was getting the hang of this talking thing. If felt good all of a sudden. “They all turned on me. Blamed me for our sorry state. Blamed me for everything. And I--I didn’t take their rancor lying down.” Wait, no, talking is intolerable. Damn these humans for coming here! “And that’s the end of the story. They kicked me out and I left.” Moriandra filled her cup, trapped in a bitter memory. Sasha and the Prince exchanged a glance. “But that was a lifetime ago. Many, many lifetimes by your standards. I found this place and have been perfectly content ever since. My ability to change shape allows me to move among people unmolested.”
“What other forms can you take?” Sasha asked excitedly.
“Any animal with four appendages and a head,” Mo replied, getting that pleasant feeling again.
“Not a table or a statue or something?”
“No. Only living things. That would be too boring, anyway.”
“And what about your clothes?” Sasha asked, fingering the strange material of her dress. “When you become something else, do they just fall off you?”
“That’s part of the transformation, actually. You’re touching skin.” Sasha swallowed her vomit.
“Moriandra,” the Prince squeaked, barely audible, yet something in his manner elicited attention. He cleared his throat, his body and voice shaking. “May I ask what form were you in when you were with my mother?”
“I took many forms over the course of our time together.” Moriandra responded, suspicious of the question.
“And how long was that?” inquired the Prince, somewhat surprised by her answer.
“A few months.”
“A few months? And in that time, did you ever take the form of a man?”
“No.”
“Not even once?”
“This is the form I take when I choose to look human.”
“So you didn’t... You couldn’t....”
“What are you asking?” Mo demanded loudly.
“You are not my father, then.” The dragon-in-human-form blinked twice, then burst into laughter.
“No!” she chortled. The Prince sighed, relief and disappointment together.
“Growing up, I heard stories that the Purple Dragon, that you fell in love with my mother, that you fathered me. I see now that could not be.”
“Even if I did appear masculine I could not be your father. All dragons are asexual; incapable of reproducing. No matter what form I take, I can neither father nor mother children.”
“But, you’re so clearly…” Sasha started.
“Most of us mentally adopted a gender,” Mo explained. “As for falling in love with your mother, impossible. A spoiled brat and ingrate...not to mention the reason I ended up in that cell.”
“How? What happened all those years ago?” The Prince tried to calm himself. He had asked his mother so many times about this time in her life, but she always deflected the question, claimed amnesia, lashed out, or asked what difference it made. The curiosity had carved a hole in his brain that Moriandra was about to fill with knowledge. He held his breath.
“I don’t remember much, I was drinking quite heavily back then.” The dragon swigged her flagon, and the Prince felt a spasm of laughter in his abdomen. He breathed normally once more. “Here’s what I will tell you. One morning, I woke up and she was gone, and since that day, not only has North Star been dark, I haven’t been able to return to my dragon form.”
“How did she manage--”
“No idea. But soon the kingdom came to believe that I had died or had gone soft or something. Hell, I attended a party in a nearby village celebrating my own disappearance!” Mo sniffed. “It was pretty fun, actually. But my prolonged absence caught the attention of Demetrius here, and he got it in his head that if I was dead, he could come and claim the North Star for himself and use it to fix Hades. But instead he found me alive, unable to defend myself. So he locked me in my cell to punish and torment me.” Moriandra smiled wryly. “He didn’t realize that I’m un-punishable.”
After dinner, Sasha found the Prince examining the only piece of art displayed on the gloomy cavern walls, the image of a labyrinth. “My mother used to draw this for me as a child, to keep me entertained. I must have solved it a hundred times growing up.” Sasha marveled at the complexity of it, admired the intricate little illustrations throughout including a tiny purple dragon near the center of the maze. She gasped.
“This is a map of the mountain!” Sasha realized.
“That’s how I knew which way to go,” corroborated the Prince. “I can imagine her standing here, committing every detail to memory, planning her escape.”
“If it was an escape at all. Mo was pretty vague on that point.” They looked at the dragon, passed out on one of her many beds.
“What about our escape?”
“Good question. Do we still want to make a run for it? Head to some deserted island and start fresh?”
“Sure, there must be tons of unknown islands where my mother’s hired assassins and professional trackers will never find us.”
“Disguise ourselves as hill folk and live out our days yodeling?”
“Tempting. What are our other options?”
“Double suicide?”
“Not really in the mood for that.”
“Stay here forever?”
“That’s just the double suicide option all over again.”
“Then what do we do?”
“Good question.”
“Let’s sleep on it.”
They slept on it. The next morning, Sasha and the Prince had their plan.
“We’re going to complete the three tasks,” the Prince told his host. “I don’t suppose there’s any way we could borrow your diamond for a bit? You know, since we rescued you and all.”
The dragon laughed out loud. “Certainly not. You might as well ask to borrow my hand or my spleen. I won’t be parted from it.”
“Then come with us!” Sasha chimed. Again, the dragon laughed aloud.
“Why would I do that?”
“It’s obvious from this room you spend too much time in bed,” replied Sasha. “You are overdue for an adventure.” The dragon laughed again.
“You are quite persuasive, little one. I’ll tell you what, you have made me laugh and for that I am grateful. But laughter, being pleasant, is easier given than tears. If you can make me now cry, I’ll join your group gladly.” With that, Sasha took her lute and began to play. Despite her renown as a peddler of enjoyment, she could induce weeping as capably as she could dancing. She sang a sad tale of lovers separated by the sea, and not halfway through, the song had reduced Moriandra to a blubbering mess. “Very well,” the dragon said sniffling. “I will come with you. We’ll leave in the morning.”
“Thank goodness,” replied Sasha. “Because there are some people waiting for us outside, and we’re really going to need your help to get by them.”
On to Chapter Four...