Dark and Dawn

The golden glimmer of early twilight seemed to mock Lucas as he trod resolutely down the forest path. How could the world look so beautiful and peaceful when everything was so wrong? The turmoil and sadness writhing in Lucas's heart had only been further amplified by the new "Happy Box" Isaac had shown Lucas just a few moments ago. Isaac had been entranced by the odd device, but to Lucas, the box's strange emissions had only complicated the fears already running amok in his mind. It was all Lucas could do to keep one foot moving in front of the other, but he knew now that if he was ever going to have a day where he didn't constantly want to break down into tears over what his life had become, it could only begin by returning to the Dragos.

Lucas clamped his eyes shut as he rounded a bend in the path, not wanting to see what was ahead. Steeling himself, he dashed forward without looking, not wanting to spend any longer there than he had to. Only seconds later, however, his foot caught on a tree root, and Lucas's young figure went sprawling in the dirt. His eyes flew open at the force of the impact, and as Lucas lay there, trying to catch his breath, images of the road drifted unwanted into his view.

Rough gouges in the dirt…torn up brush…a drop into a swiftly flowing river…

"What were we waiting for, Mom?"

"Just a mole playing in the road, dear."

"Aw, c'mon! I could've beaten it up! Then we wouldn't've had to wait!"

"Oh, really? Are you sure about that, Claus?"

"Yeah! I'm strong enough! Remember when I was fighting that Drago? And that mole cricket?"

"Of course you're strong enough," said Hinawa, ruffling Claus's hair gently. "But there's more than one way to be strong, you know."

"There is?" Claus replied eagerly. "What kinds?"

Hinawa smiled. "Well, for one, kindness. If you're kind to every-"

A loud noise suddenly erupted from the cliff above them and Hinawa broke off in mid-sentence. She was suddenly alert, her eyes fixed on the clump of trees the noise had come from. Lucas and Claus looked up too, trying to get a glimpse of what their Mom was looking at.

And then suddenly, she was shoving them both towards the side of the road. "Lucas. Claus. Quick, get in the bushes, and don't let anyone see you!"

The boys looked at each other questioningly. "Mom, w-what is it?" Lucas asked.

"Just do what I say, and don't ask questions." Neither Claus nor Lucas could remember having heard this voice from their mom before: an urgent and commanding tone that made it clear this was not up for debate. The two boys quickly walked back and crouched in the bushes.

And then, something green, and…BIG…dropped down from the cliff. Things moved too fast…Mom was running…at what? At the Drago? Away from it? …away from Lucas and Claus? Then a roar…. a flash of red…. a scream….Claus was standing up, but something was wrong...they were off balance…a rush of water…he couldn't breathe…

Lucas shook his head vigorously. No, he thought firmly. He didn't need to remember that. He didn't want to. It was too scary. He brushed the dirt off his clothes, stood up, and walked onward, forcing himself not to look back.

*****

No trace remained of the setting sun by the time Lucas reached his destination. He gasped and struggled to bring himself over the last ledge without losing his grip, but he made it, and took a moment to rest on the top of the cliff, examining the stick he had managed to bring with him. It was nice and straight, and was "long, but not too long," just like his Dad had taught him a good fighting stick should be. Lucas had never enjoyed those lessons as much as Claus had, but he was glad he'd listened now. Just like Dad and Claus had, Lucas was going to fix what was wrong with the world. He was going to put things right for Mom. Here, at the Dragos' cave, he was going to get his revenge.

When he was ready, Lucas slowly approached the opening of the Drago's cave from the right, trying to avoid getting close enough to be seen from inside the cave. He thought he could hear one of the Dragos growling inside, and tightened his grip on his stick. Slowly, he began to poke his head around the corner into the entrance, keeping his stick hidden from the Drago's view.

Inside, he could see not just one, but several full-grown Dragos going about their business, while several Drago babies scurried about underfoot. None of them seemed to notice him. Lucas noticed they all seemed to be watching one side of the cave instead, but he shoved the thought out of his mind. He needed to focus.

Lucas took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and pushed at the emotions that had led him this far. It's their fault…completely their fault. A Drago…it's their fault that Mom isn't around anymore, she can't tuck me in, she can't play with me, she can't make omelettes...and then Claus, too! They…they…He choked as he forced himself to think the words. They killed Mom! And now, Claus is gone, and that's their fault too! What if Boney disappears next, or Dad!? Lucas opened his eyes to find they were swimming with tears. I have to do something! I have to be like Claus! He knew what to do! I have to be strong enough…strong enough that even Dragos won't stand a chance!

Before he could convince himself to stop, Lucas took off at a dead run, heading straight for the nearest Drago. With the loudest roar his nine-year-old voice could muster, he leaped at the Drago, raised his stick in the air, and brought it down as hard as he could against the Drago's side.

The stick snapped cleanly in two, the top half spinning a few feet through the air before skidding to a halt.

The cave was dead quiet, and every Drago eye was fixed on Lucas. The Drago he'd attacked looked at Lucas, a kind of weary surprise written on its face. Lucas was taken aback by the failure of his stick, but with another surge of emotion, he charged again, kicks and punches bouncing off the Drago's sturdy hide. The Drago gave a sigh, and eventually, but non-convincingly, fell to the floor as if knocked over.

Lucas stopped short. Just like when we were playing at Grandpa's house, he realized. It…it doesn't even realize I'm trying to hurt it, does it?

Lucas looked around the cavern, and, for the first time, saw what all the Dragos had been staring at. On a small raised platform of stone lay the Drago who had attacked Hinawa, halfway composed of some sort of metal. With a jolt, Lucas realized the Drago was dead. It must have died after Dad fought it… Several small Dragos were gathered around the platform, and for a moment…just one small moment…, Lucas could have sworn he saw a cluster of sunflowers behind the Drago's still body.

Lucas collapsed to the ground, buried his head in his arms, and sobbed.

It's not even their fault. I attacked them, and it's not even their fault. And even if it was, I couldn't do anything. Mom always said I was strong, but…Mom, why…Mom… I need you, Mom…Mom…Mom…

Lucas felt a small snout nuzzle up against his arm, but he pushed it away, crying harder than ever. No one could comfort him. He didn't want comforted, unless Mom was there to do it. Several Dragos tried to cuddle up next to him, but he pushed them all away without looking. Finally, one young Drago pushed up close with such persistence that Lucas gave up, and simply curled up in a ball, crying his young eyes out, as the Drago snuggled up as best it could. An older Drago, presumably the younger's mother, joined their small vigil, curling its large, warm tail around the two small figures on the floor. Eventually, Lucas dimly realized that both Dragos were crying as well.

There, huddled in the dark, a young boy and Drago mixed their tears, mourning for all that was wrong and cruel in the world.

They sat there together for what felt like hours. But eventually, the sound of a distant explosion echoed across the forest, bringing the older Drago back to reality. It slowly stood, and trudged out of the cave, looking across the forest. As a second explosion sounded, the baby Drago stood, following its mother to see what was going on. Lucas's flow of tears did not diminish, but he raised his head to watch what the Dragos were doing.

As the sounds of battle continued to ring out from the forest, thoughts of worry penetrated Lucas's grief. What was going on back home? What if…what if something else happened? Lucas stood and joined the Dragos at the cliff side. He gazed out anxiously, trying without success to see what was going on through the trees and tears. After Lucas had stood there for a few moments, the older Drago gave a soft growl. It turned around, presented its back to Lucas, and kneeled down.

It took Lucas a moment to realize the Drago was offering Lucas a ride. Lucas was hesitant, but the Drago had been kind enough so far, so he carefully climbed up the spines on its back, and wrapped his arms as tight as he could around its neck. Once Lucas was secure, the Drago stood, and with a roar, leapt off the cliff, landing solidly on the rock face below, and took off into the forest.

*****

If Lucas had been in any state to pay much attention to his surroundings, he likely would have been terrified by the ride he was experiencing. The Drago ran faster than Lucas had ever traveled before, reducing a journey that normally took him several hours to mere minutes. It leaped down cliffs and over rivers, ducking tree branches at the last moment, and frequently turning so sharply it was a good thing Lucas was hanging on as tightly as he was. The Drago's baby ran alongside them, occasionally yelping softly to signal something to its mother. Lucas took it all in with a kind of dull apathy. What little of his mind wasn't still consumed by grief was filled with worry over the sounds they had heard. As they dashed through the forest, their trail was literally dotted with Lucas's tears.

An exceptionally loud explosion suddenly roared through the forest, and this time, Lucas could see a bright flash to go with it not far ahead. The Drago screeched to a halt, and Lucas quickly crawled off its back. Lucas, being the smallest, led the trio carefully through the bushes until they had a clear view of what was going on.

Lucas saw old man Wess right away, but he didn't recognize the pink-haired girl standing next to him, or the small monkey that stood between them. Immediately behind those three, Lucas could see strange soldiers hurriedly clearing away the smoldering wreckage of what looked like some sort of vehicle. With a chill, Lucas realized he recognized the soldiers from his Dad's descriptions: pink-clad troopers with strange round helmets that Dad had dubbed pigmasks. More memories of what Flint had said came unbidden, forgotten until now, and the same surge of anger that had overcome Lucas outside the Drago's cave returned almost at full force. These "pigmasks"…they were the ones who had made that Drago go crazy! They must have been the ones attacking Wess and those other two! So it's all because of them that…

Lucas's train of thought was cut off by the arrival of more pigmasks through what was left of the vehicle's remains, led by yet another unfamiliar face, this one sporting a moustache and a cruel expression. Another unfamiliar vehicle rolled up behind them, and judging by the expression on old man Wess's face, its presence was not good news.

"Now, then, Princess Kumatora," the mustached man sneered at the pink-haired girl. "May I ask that you behave and do as we say?" Princess Kumatora (She was a princess!?) responded by raising a hand threateningly, and Lucas gave a start when he saw it was covered in fire.

But then his face set into the strongest resolve he'd ever experienced in his short life. The Dragos weren't responsible for what they'd done…but these men were. And Lucas was in no mood to be tolerant. He quickly dried his face, and as his newfound determination swept aside his usual timidity, he walked out of hiding and right up to the pigmasks.

The man noticed him soon enough. "Who're you!?" he asked incredulously, a vein throbbing in his neck. "Get outta here, you stupid kid!" The pigmasks joined in, shouting jeers and insults at Lucas from every direction. Ordinarily, Lucas would have backed away, shamefaced, from such an attack, but Lucas was not in an ordinary mood. He put his fingers in his mouth and whistled, just like Claus had done to get the Drago's attention when they were playing, merely days ago. The baby Drago perked up its ears, and bounded up to Lucas's side.

The pigmasks were not impressed, particularly the mustached man. "OH MY PORK!!" he bellowed, turning red in the face. "What is a baby Drago doing here?! You! Baby Drago! Get outta here!"

The young Drago was suddenly the focus of the pigmasks attention, but Lucas rested his hand on its head comfortingly, and it raised its snout, and called for its mother in the loudest yelps it could muster.

The earth shook, and the jeers came to a sudden halt. It didn't take long for the Drago to emerge from the woods, and Lucas could have sworn it was taking a moment to relish the surprise and fear the pigmasks were so clearly broadcasting. Before the pigmasks knew it, the Drago had thrown two of them to the side with a lash of its tail, and launched a bellow at the others loud enough that Lucas's ears were ringing for minutes afterwards.

The pigmasks never stood a chance. One after another, they were thrown to the side by the Drago's teeth, claws, and tail. The roars that issued from its mouth were so loud that several pigmasks simply turned tail and fled. Before long, only the mustached man was left, cornered between the Drago and the abandoned vehicle.

"No…stop…Stop! Don't! Please!"

Princess Kumatora walked up by Lucas's side, and simply laughed. "Feeling better now, monkey?" she asked, with a wink to Lucas.

The monkey, with the same angry but triumphant gleam in his eyes as the Drago, mimicked Lucas's whistle perfectly. The Drago charged straight at the mustached man, and he was catapulted unceremoniously into the forest with a pathetic cry. "Whaaaaaaa…."

And now, it was the baby Drago's turn. It leaped onto its mother's back much like Lucas had earlier, and bellowed its defiance to the fleeing pigmasks, its mother joining in enthusiastically. They gave a massive leap, and landed squarely on the strange vehicle, their enormous bulk reducing it to scrap metal. Their work done, they bounded off into the forest, but not before the baby Drago gave a few last yelps Lucas could not possibly fail to understand."Goodbye! And good luck!"

"Lucas." Lucas turned around to find old man Wess speaking to him. "I heard that you've done nothing but cry since the day your mother passed away…" At this, Lucas's eyes began to water again, but he managed to keep his gaze on Wess. "…but what you did just now was wonderful. You saved our lives. Thank you, Lucas."

"I had to," Lucas said back, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to overcome his ability to speak. "I…I needed to." Unable to articulate any more than that, he turned away from Wess, only to find Kumatora looking at him.

"You didn't even know what was goin' on, but you saved our lives," she said gratefully. Lucas had no more words for her than he did for Wess, so he simply stared. Eventually, Kumatora broke the silence. "Well, it's probably a little late for it now, but you should ask this geezer about what's goin' on."

"What's…going on?" Lucas asked. Something more was going on?

"Sure, I can fill you in on everything," Wess piped up. "Will you listen, Lucas?"

Lucas stopped to think before speaking. "Yeah. Those pigmasks, or whatever they're called…it's cause of them….they're the ones making things wrong. And now Mom….and Claus…" A few teardrops dripped to the forest floor. "I wanna help. I don't want anyone else to go away. I wanna…" he trailed off as tears overtook him again.

"You want justice," he said softly. Lucas nodded, and Wess placed a hand on his shoulder and looked him directly in the eye. "So do all of us."

At these words, a warmth sprang up in Lucas's heart that he thought he had forgotten since his life had been turned upside down. It was only a small warmth, but a warmth nonetheless. And although Lucas still could not bring himself to speak, that small warmth lit a fire in his eyes that told Wess everything Lucas wanted to say, and more.

"So! You want to know what's going on? Well, it goes like this…"

*****

When he returned home late that night, Flint was pleased to see the dim glow of a dying fire inside the house. It told him that Lucas had made it home (else the fire would not be lit at all) and that he had managed to get to sleep (otherwise, Lucas would have kept the fire burning strong). Flint carefully eased his way in through the doorknob-less door, and sure enough, Lucas was lying in bed, fast asleep, his body still instinctively huddled against the warmth of another young figure that was no longer there. Flint tucked him in more securely, and carefully wiped the last remnants of tears off his face. He noticed that even in sleep, his son's expression was set and determined.

"You did a lot of growing up today, Lucas," Flint whispered softly, gazing at the strong young face before him. "I'm proud of you."