Merlin's Dragon

SORRY! Haven't updated in forever! But now the inspiration is back!

Chapter 11

Drake stalked though the darkened streets. His black eyes sought out only the sidewalk in front of him. His head throbbed in a constant beat; the pulsing was keeping time with his own heart, pounding in time with each thump-thump. He had made his way halfway to his penthouse before finally sagging against a building's wall. The illusionist closed his eyes, as though cutting of his sight would help cut away unnerving stimulus and allow him to rationalize the situation he found himself in.

Callisto was a dragon. A flying reptile. An overgrown lizard that could eat people.

My best mate's not even a bloke. He's a Dragon. Sometime while Drake had realized this new fact at the lab, a sense of betrayal had fallen into his being. Why hadn't Callisto said anything? If he didn't know, why didn't he? What about the purple eyed teen was true? How many lies had he told Drake? Why was Drake so upset about this?

Great, now I also feel guilty. Just what I need. Thanks, Conscience, the illusionist scowled to himself. I just thought that, for once in my career…for once in my life…I had found someone who understood me, and I was beginning to understand him.

"I just got 'im to admit we were friends!" Drake exclaimed in exasperation.

"Callisto? Friends?" A voice sounded. "Impossible."

The illusionist spun around to face the new arrival. A smaller girl watched him with blue eyes as he tried to place her name to her face, "wait, I know you. I do. Taban, right?"

"Good job, Mr. Stone. I'm sure you've met plenty of people and have plenty of names listed in your head," the reply dripped with sarcasm.

"Not really, I typically try to forget people as soon as possible. Ya know, clear the mind and use it for new things. Or something like that, either way, it's not every day that a random chick reveals to me that someone I know is actually a creature that shouldn't exist," the illusionist shrugged coolly, but his calm facade was lessoned by the swirling emotions behind his eyes.

"Shouldn't exist?" Taban's voice held a sharp edge. "Do dragons not have to right to exist because they're 'mythical'?"

"Everyone knows dragons don't exist."

"Just like sorcerers and magic?" Taban raised a dark brown eye brow. "What's your problem, anyway?"

"That's not my point," Drake pushed himself away from the wall he was leaned on to continue his walk, deterred only for a moment when he realized the girl was following him. He crossed his arms as he sped up his strides to try to rid himself of his new found pest.

Taban laughed slightly, "are you pouting? That's a bit childish, don't you think?"

"'m not poutin'," Drake muttered.

"Why are you being such a jerk about something that isn't about you?"

"Not about me?" The illusionist turned on his heel, almost causing the girl to run into him. "Not about me? Are you jokin', Mate?" Drake growled. "Callisto's a dragon. 'Is problem, I get that, but…" His voice trailed away as he turned back around as though he was simply going to leave it there.

"Yes?"

"The life of a celebrity isn't all glitter and happiness," Drake continued. "It's a lonely life because you can never really know if someone is actually your friend or if they're after your image and money. Everyone wants to be known, after all. Everyone wants their name up in lights. You learn to detach yourself in a sense, so that you can't fall for tricks by the public." The illusionist began to walk again, but slower, allowing Taban to fall into step with him.

"And what? I'm quite wealthy as well and know all this. You're talking in riddles instead of answering my question," Taban prodded. "I'm not after you, Mr. Stone; Callisto is, after all, my friend as well."

Silence answered her. Drake made no acknowledgement to even hearing her speak until they stood outside his apartment building. "I never had to worry about Calli. I could be myself around 'im and I knew that 'e wouldn't abuse it."

"You trusted him, and now you feel that everything will change. Is that it?" The girl theorized. "Interesting. So, now what?"

"You leave and I go to my room," Drake flashed a broken smile.

"Oh, I get it," Taban bristled, "you feel lost, so, instead of helping your so-called-friend through a change in his life, you're going to leave him to try to sort it out on his own. Because that's just how you work, isn't it? You stay as long as there are no conflicts, and as soon as something arises, you're gone before you can get in too deep." The girl's voice was colder than ice. "Callisto admitted you and he were friends. That's huge for him, and you're just showing him why he should never admit such things. Well, unlike you, I'm not leaving him. Not betraying him."

Drake never noticed the girl had left. Untouched emotions swirled him into dizziness. Emotions he tried to lock away since he was thrown away, used, by two different masters. Betrayal stabbed him, but from a new angle than he was used to. He knew what it meant to be betrayed, not to betray. Loneliness ghosted around him, picking at old wounds. Pain, old and new, worked side by side to undo and tear him apart. Before he had a chance to think anymore about stale news, the illusionist opened the door, and moved into the building and slinked towards the elevator.

-/-

Balthazar wandered beside Veronica, glancing about for trouble and Drake.

Then again, one of those almost always follows the other, the sorcerer thought to himself, a frown tugging on his lips.

A warm hand found its way into his as Veronica leaned into him. He gently squeezed her hand with his own, reassurance flowing into him as though all he ever needed was his love's touch to know that the world would somehow turn out alright. As though her very presence made all the troubles that plagued the earth vanish into the shadows at the corners of the world, where they couldn't reach anyone or anything.

"Do you think he really is the same dragon?" Veronica cautiously asked.

Balthazar sighed slightly, "I'm not sure, yet. But I do know that if he is, something must be coming as well. One thousand years is too long of a time to just be waiting for the Prime Merlinian. And if he was seeking Dave, why would he have found Drake instead?"

"Perhaps he didn't know who the Prime Merlinian was; he just subconsciously knew he was back," the sorceress offered.

"No," Balthazar quickly retaliated. "It makes no sense for him not to have any memory of being a dragon if he only came here to join Dave. He should know…something about himself."

Veronica hummed slightly, "Balthazar, both Dave and Drake's rings began to glow when Callisto went into trance."

"I know. His spirit has latched onto their power and lives. They now are in a constant competition to bond with Callisto and have him become a familiar with one of them," the sorcerer's eyes darted down an alleyway, checking for any danger. "Hopefully it will also realize that Dave is the Prime Merlinian, and a better choice than Drake."

Veronica suddenly stopped walking. The sorcerer turned to look back at her, his light eyes swirling with questions. The sorceress' eyes looked to the dark sky, her body elegantly tensed in a silent argument. Dark eyes shifted their gaze to lock with Balthazar's waiting look. What is the coldness in her eyes? He wondered to himself. A wrong choice of words? A recalled memory over what I have said. Or, perhaps, nothing to do with me, but instead her own mind.

"Love, tell me what troubles you."

Veronica flipped her long, dark hair behind her before she responded, "I do not agree with familiars. Most creatures are forced into it. They have no choice if the sorcerer or wizard is stronger than the will such creatures possess. If Callisto is to be a familiar, I only wish and hope it is because he wishes it. Not because he is forced."

Balthazar's eyes softened as she spoke, the slight tremors in her voice betraying her passive tone and showing her strong emotions beneath the words. Slowly, he moved to stand directly in front of her, waiting for her to relax before cupping her cheek in his hand, and pressing a chaste kiss to her lips.

"I swear, so long as I can stop it, Callisto will not be forced to do anything against his will. He has stepped into our family on shady terms, but nevertheless, he is apart of our group now," Balthazar murmured to the sorceress. "And I will protect him."

Veronica smiled, "as will I."

"Come, let us find Drake," the sorcerer decided. "He will help Callisto adjust and stay safe. From others, at least."

-/-

Dave sighed again as the heavy silence between he and Callisto continued. His brown eyes glanced sideways as a blur of movement was seen from the corner of his eye. The blonde man stood and began to pace slightly. Dave watched him, mouth opening and closing as he sought words to break the quiet about them. Finally deciding that the younger was bordering on restlessness, the Prime Merlinian slowly rose from his seated position and moved to the other.

Okay, Dave. He thought to himself. He just figured out he is an overgrown, flying lizard. That can eat people. And maybe breathe fire. And kill. And…no. This is Calli. He wouldn't hurt anyone, right? Right. I think.

The sorcerer hesitated as he began to shake away his thoughts. Callisto's head was tilted downward as his strides faltered every few steps, as though his feet demanded something other than the teen was allowing them to do. Pale hands were clasped behind a slender back as the teen continued to move from point A to point B like a tightrope walker, he seemed to be stuck moving only along one cracked line in the room.

Just tell him everything will be fine. Everyone will be fine and soon everyone will be back together. Tell him you won't leave like Drake did, and that Drake will be back. Dave took a breath.

"Hey, uh, Calli, Callisto. Uh, you. Anyway, do you wanna, I don't know, walk to my apartment? You know, get out of here. Change the scenery?" Dave tried to smile. "Not that my apartment looks any better than this place."

Purple eyes glanced at him for a moment before refocusing on the floor as the teen continued to pace.

"Or are you hungry? There's a great café just a few streets away, and it's cheap, so…"

Callisto finally sighed. "No, Dave Stutler. You are welcome to leave me, if you wish. I am quite capable of being alone. But," he paused, "I want to leave, nonetheless."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry," inhuman eyes met with human, "I feel contained. I feel…I want out."

"Calli!" Dave called out as the man strode toward the exit. "Maybe we should stay—" He was cut off as the sound of the metal door closing echoed throughout his lab. "Or not."

The Prime Merlinian was half tempted to run after the other. However, he opted instead for sitting back down on the nearest chair. The musty air around him seemed to still hold Callisto's presence, as though a part of the younger man was still standing beside Dave. He could almost feel the warmth of another body near his side. Could almost hear faint breathing that didn't exist. Could almost feel the ghost of a sensation on his shoulder, as though the air was being blown in his direction. As though something was simply waiting for him to look up and see it. Yet, he was alone.

After stretching his back and rolling his shoulders to rid himself of the feeling, the Prime Merlinian's eyes landed on a large book on the ground. It's worn cover and pages were torn and wrinkled. Dave padded over to his Incantus, wasting only a moment in hesitation before he hauled the book from the ground, almost toppling over due to its weight alone. He stumbled over to a metal desk, dropping the Incantus atop it. Shaking hands ran over the cover, not afraid of what they were about to open, but instead frightened of what might be learned from opening the book.

"C'mon, Dave," the sorcerer whispered, as though afraid someone else would hear him. "You gotta learn this one way or another, and all the history of sorcery is in this thing."

Before he could mentally talk himself out of it, Dave pulled the book open, letting it find the page he was looking for. "I love magic."

The title Dragon Training stood out at the top of the page. Each letter was arched and curved like the strokes of an artist. Pictures of dragons, all different shapes and sizes, littered pages upon pages after the one holding the title. The coloring of each dragon was faded or blurring, but each held distinct colors. Dave's eyes took in each dragon name, written in crimson, smaller letters, on each page.

"Agathos Daimon, Aitvaras, Amphitere, Aspises, Ch'i-lung," Dave cocked his head as he continued to list names. "Cockatrice, Dragon Beast, Eastern Dragon, Fae Dragon, Fuku-Riu, Guardians of the Underworld Gates, Horned Dragon, Hydra, Jaculus, Kuniya, Liru, Naga, Palukukon, Pa Snake, Piest, Sea Serpent, Serpent-Waist, Tatsu, Wyvern, Ying-Lung, Zaltys." Dave drew in a large breath of air. "God, who knew there would be so many dragon names? Why can't they all just be 'dragon'?"

The Prime Merlinian turned another page, his eyes falling upon a picture that was neither faded nor worn. The dragon he now looked at seemed all too familiar. The sleek, slender body of the wingless dragon was a metallic gold. Its graceful neck arched slightly, causing more of a profile of the creature's face to be shown. The skull seemed to resemble that of a stallion, slightly, if stallion's heads could be described with such lethal grace. The head of the dragon, itself, had two, slightly curved, sliver horns protruding from the top of the skull, which were angled backwards so that they almost were perpendicular to the neck. Two, pointed ears shot backward from the sides of the skull, and rested on the outside of the horns. A single, long, purple, ribbon-like whisker extended from behind either nostril, and seemed weightless as they floated around the dragon. White, pointed teeth lined its mouth, much like that of a cat. Three, separate, purple, armor-like scale configurations lay flat against the dragon's snout. And glowing, completely bright purple eyes stared off the page at Dave, captivating him like the eyes of a cobra does with prey.

A crimson trail of fur began, like the mane of a horse, in the middle of the dragon's forehead, and continued to trail, like a Mohawk, down the rest of the creature's lithe body. Like the tail of a lion, the red fur extended, mimicking the look of a feather past the tip of the tail. The underbelly of the dragon was a metallic purple, only a few shades darker than the piercing eyes of the beast. The two forelegs and two back legs of the dragon were structured like those of a cat, insinuating that the beast walked on all fours. Red fur extended from the elbow of the dragon's forelegs and the calf of the dragon's back legs. The same armor-like, purple, scales appeared on the creature's forearms and extended down to the four, talon-like fingers of the dragon. The graceful curves of the dragon were expertly drawn to show the flexibility of its form as it twisted on the page. Dave's brown eyes followed the twisting form, realizing that the dragon's tail was almost twice the length of its body.

The Prime Merlinian paused for a moment. Taking in the regal appearance of the dragon as well as the almost conscience gleam in the picture's eyes. Finally, his brown eyes trailed to look at the title of the dragon. Dave gasped and pushed himself away from the Incantus. He stumbled a few paces away from the book as he regained his composure.

Eventually, Dave returned to the page and continued to read.

"Merlin's Dragon," the Prime Merlinian murmured. "Whereabouts: unknown. Strengths: unparallel speed; intellect; wielding of purple lightening; manipulation. Weaknesses: Water; ground fighting. Element: Lightening. Flight: able to perform difficult maneuvers swiftly. Other titles: The Golden Dragon; the Eternal Dancer; Callisto." Dave let out a sighing breath. His throat tightening around the escaping air. "Familiar to Merlin, ally of humans, the Golden Dragon is of a rare race that has not been seen for centuries."

The Prime Merlinian paused, feeling as though reading such details was cheating. As though this was somehow equal to reading someone's diary. Callisto's secrets were written on the page before Dave, but the teen did not know about them. The sorcerer closed the book, his eyes taking in one last statement as the page vanished among the others.

Loyalties: Unknown.

-/-

Callisto shivered in the night air as he continued his quick paced walk. His slender form weaved through the remaining crowds clotting the sidewalk. He had lost track of time as he let his mind clear. He had crossed countless streets, moved past an infinite number of cars, and seen an innumerable amount of blank, unknown faces. Yet his feet continued to move him forward, his legs were unrelenting in their mechanical strides.

The teen crossed his arms over his chest as he shuddered against the cold. The polluted air stung his uncovered eyes, and he blinked back a few tears at the burning pain. Nevertheless, he pushed on. Every scream, honk, and sounds of the like blurred together into one never ending screech that was New York. Callisto, however; heard nothing but the beating of his own heart and his clashing thoughts.

I'm a dragon.

No, I'm human, dragons don't exist, there is no proof of them.

Yet here I am, convinced I am one.

The teen shook his head, as though he could silence his own mind through the simple motion.

Did I not tell Drake Stone I would stop hiding what made me who I am?

This is different, it is new knowledge, not me. But what I could possibly be.

What difference is there, anyway?

Much.

Yet, even as Callisto added this argument against himself, he could not list any differences other than cowardice. Denial. Confusion.

Human emotions and reasons.

Why bother fighting, still?

The teen suddenly stopped, realizing suddenly that his feet had led him to a large, metallic, brown bridge. Wires and metal straps acted as a cage, surrounding the walking and biking area which stretched the length of the bridge.

"Queensborough Bridge," Callisto muttered under his breath. Purple eyes took in the sight in front of their holder before sliding closed.

The teen could feel himself moving forward, ducking, weaving, and climbing his way around the metal bars until he stood with nothing keeping him from the ledge of the bridge. Wind whipped his blonde locks around his slender frame, red tips fluttering in the wind like a warning flair. Callisto's breath hitched as the balls of his feet touched the edge of the metal bridge. Finally, without thought, the teen took a step forward, his foot meeting nothing but unresisting air. The teen's body pitched forward and off the side of the bridge. The indescribable feeling of falling and knowing that the next impact made would more than likely be his last flickered across Callisto's mind. But it lasted no more than a second. And the thought never made it to an emotion. Before it could ever surface, it was already ending.

And the fall never came.

Callisto, outlined in a faint purple glow, was floating beside the bridge. His body felt as though gravity not only lost its hold on him, but was also pushing him away from the earth. As though his weight only counteracted the pull of the world, and allowed him more freedom in the air. He was unlike a feather, for even feathers eventually fall to the Earth, and become victims to worldly things. He was like a cloud. A sunray. A flying star, so far out of reach that it moved as it wished.

Purple eyes opened, revealing the cage-like walkway and all the people using it.

"Preposterous," Callisto scoffed. "Dreams of Grandeur."

However, he could not explain the fleeting tingling sensation as gravity settled upon the teen with a vigor that seemed all too containing. The teen glanced toward the edge of the bridge. He would, should, surely fall. Plummet into the freezing water, from which he would never return. To lose everything. To gain freedom. To release himself from the chains and bonds holding him to humanity and unending puzzles.

To let go of Taban, Dave, and Drake.

"Never," Callisto hissed, turning away from the bridge to retrace his steps back to Dave's lab.

Before he could take a step, the hair on the back of the teen's neck stood on end. A chill climbed up his spine and settled in his chest. A rumbling reached the teen's pale ears, a quiet sound, like that of a car engine starting. Then it sounded again, stronger, but no nearer. Not a car. Not unfamiliar, either.

The noise picked at the back of Callisto's brain, sounding through his memories to try to find a match. A memory, hidden in the sands of time and life resurfaced. A zoo. A lion.

"A lion?"

The sound reverberated through the air, crackling amongst the city's noise. Then, finally, a third time. It rang like thunder. Threats of anger and frustration seeped through the sound. It caused a ringing in Callisto's ears, just like the lion did so many years ago. But this was different. It was louder, deeper. It was savage, yet somehow conscience. It held an unknown message. But it could not be misheard any longer. The true colors of the sound could be seen by Callisto's eyes. Whatever it was created by, the sound was distinguishable for what it really was.

A roar.