Please forgive me! I have been distracted by school and writing an original story!
Chapter 8: Can Family Be Adopted?
Ciara was dreaming of her kitten, the little pet that was now just a wisp of a soul leftover from her father's destruction. She dreamed that he was nestled on her stomach, looking at her intently.
He was a Dark kitten, solidified of shadows, and with a new aura of power despite his fuzzy, rounded shape- and he was about to pounce on a strand of hair by her shoulder. His eyes glowed like little beams against a hazy background. They narrowed, focusing in on the piece of hair, and-
She awoke with a gasp, and she felt about her for a second to determine where she was. The nausea had gone, and she felt quite well, and quite warm, even to her fingertips. The cloth covering her was dusty linen, but dry and soft despite the slight odour of dirt.
Her hearing was just as keen as ever, so she caught every word of the hushed conversation; or was this conversation that was heard in the mind and not the vibrations of air?
She couldn't tell, but one voice almost unheard, but clear like the depths of a lake, and the other was Philippe's worried tone. It touched her that he would worry so. She was well now, was she not, even if she was not in his mansions and likely not in the town anymore. The voices grew louder as another was added to their mix.
I have heard that voice before… It was a female's voice, and a very familiar one. A vague memory of singing and the smell of grass resurfaced. Oh. It is the singing girl that Philippe's brother liked to watch.
She felt about with her fingertips to ensure that if she stood, her coverings would not fall away. They would not, but they had obviously been torn before, all the way down the back seam. Someone had sewn it up again with rough sinew much like a bowstring. The fabric itself was the finest she'd ever felt, and she knew this was the robe that each yearly sacrifice wore. What in heaven's name has happened? Was I sacrificed? Surely Philippe would not do such a thing to me…would he?
"She is well now, and that is what matters."
"How can I be sure she will be safe? In the town, her father could be anywhere."
You may leave her with Erik. Philippe's voice adopted a hint of suspicion.
"Must I ensure her safety with something? A token, perhaps?" A deep growl rippled through the air. This was pure indignation and stress, another voice that was not quite on the plane of sound.
Why do you, puny human, feel the need to question my honour? That scale you returned represented a deal beyond the scope of your small mind; a bargain of trust, and debt repaid. I do not go back on my word.
The female voice spoke again: "Please, Erik, calm yourself! He does not know us." How confident she was! Ciara found herself wishing she could be like that for Philippe, able to defend because she knew him well. She stood up slowly, expecting the dizziness to return. It did not, and the ground felt quite stable.
The resulting stillness made her feel awkward. All eyes turned to her, eyes that could see and wonder. A questioning hum escaped her throat, and she gasped, covering her mouth.
The air in the cave was considerably less from the collective intake of breath. Erik was the first to speak.
It seems the purge and healing has had some unpredicted effects. His tone was tinged with amusement. It has healed her of her muteness, but it will be some time before she can speak as you do, de Chagny. Then he rumbled out a thoughtful hum. Open your eyes, White One. I suspect that you are no longer blind.
The air was cool on her eyes. She blinked, disoriented as light was registered in her consciousness for the first time. Then she closed them again. I can see light, but…seeing as others do hurts! Her fingertips skipped up her cheeks and probed the aching sockets of her face.
"Ciara, perhaps this will help." Philippe's hands guided her own down, and wrapped a cloth (likely his handkerchief) loosely about her eyes. She noticed that his voice shook, just as his hands did when he tied the blindfold.
Christine looked on, puzzling over the albino she had known as a maid. Who would have thought that the master of the most powerful house would fall for her? Love was indeed a trickster to turn the world upside down. Would she ever find love like that? Or would her strange, in-between state of human dragon prevent her?
She took a moment to inspect herself, and this time was only mildly surprised when she found that the scales had begun to spread down her shoulders and legs, covering parts of her torso. They were clear, with the shimmer of soap bubbles. What colour would they be when she was fully turned? If she was fully turned, that is. We are such an odd group of people. A dragon, a healer dragon girl, an aristocrat, and a half Dark housemaid…
Ciara took a moment to blink, eyelashes caught under the cloth. The light was still quite bright, but it no longer hurt, and she could see shapes moving. One was in the direction Philippe's voice had come from. A thrill raced through her. I can see him!
She turned her head and absorbed the different things around her. There was a pale, curved shape like hers, the other female who had spoken earlier. There was a large, dark, strong-looking creature to her side, head turned to the side to inspect her more closely. And the colours! Each was new and vibrant, even through the cloth. She would have to learn their names, and learn how to name them- to speak!
Philippe watched with bated breath as Ciara discovered her surroundings with her new sight. His soul chased after hers when she laughed a pure, joyful laugh with her new voice. Overcome, she ran towards him in her repaired white robe to embrace him, but sight was disorienting. She tripped, and gasped as he caught her, for why would he not catch her?
The light was dimmer when she turned to the black shape and his companion. Philippe was speaking. "How can I- we- repay you? All I had for you was one bit of ivory and your own scale-"
Do not presume to think you can repay me, human, with your gold or possessions. You can repay me by living happy, peaceful lives. I wish to see some good come of what I have done this day.
…
Nadir looked on as the couple from the village celebrated, smiling and laughing as if all was right with the world. He knew he could congratulate himself on how Erik had turned out, a generous individual to heal a stranger with energy-intensive magic, but there were likely other reasons. The carved chunk of ivory was one.
That artefact had long been held to be a remnant of the very first dragon, which knocked it loose in a battle with the first Dark. After the Dark was torn and scattered to all the shadowy places of the world, he had supposedly carved that tooth and given it to a human woman, a woman that the 'healer' Giry claimed to be descended from. At any rate, it had once given her immense power, hence her meeting with Erik during his travels throughout the northern lands.
Their friendship had been more one of cooperation than therapy, but if Erik had one more person to call a friend, it was worth his discomfort, was it not?
The council had looked for that tooth for centuries, and still it had evaded them by the magic of the Giry line. Nadir had no doubt in his mind that if they obtained this tooth they would use it to some unimaginably bad end. Perhaps he means to keep the thing for himself, to keep it safe- or to use it.
He retreated into the shade of the cavern, preferring the shade to the sensation of hot lemon juice running through his scales. Then he contemplatively picked a citrus off his shoulder and chewed it. Beside him, the half-and-half creature named Christine shuffled uncomfortably and sat down on the rock floor. Nadir had examined her from a distance while Erik was working his magic, and had reached a conclusion. There was no special enchantment on her, and nothing but the residual smell of dried plants and Erik's most recent kills.
Erik snorted. Nadir, your lemon-munching has made its way into my eye. He blinked slowly to clear the stinging acid.
Did you know, Erik, that this transformation your little pet is undergoing is a completely natural process?
What do you mean? He turned and gave his friend a long look (with one eye; the other was still closed against the lemon juice).
It may seem a mystery that she is transforming into one of our kind.
It will continue to be a mystery unless you divulge whatever you wish to tell me, Erik growled. He disliked long preambles to information.
It is most likely that she was originally a dragon and was enchanted at a young age to appear human in all respects. He watched with keen eyes as Erik, true to form, did his best to hide his reaction. Still, his tail twitched, betraying surprise.
Will you tell the council? It had not escaped his mind that the council disapproved of his keeping company with a human.
Only if you wish me to. Nadir turned to leave, gliding gently so as not to disturb the celebrating couple. They stared up at him, wondering. But when you decide to tell them, think of her first.
He left with the midday breeze in his wake. Erik considered Christine's situation. Yes, he would think of her whether the council knew or not. He would have to, especially because she had come to rely on him for everything. And, to some extent, he now relied on her- though he tried not to admit it, even to himself.
…
Philippe had looked out over the grass and the distance between him and the town. Ciara's hand in his cemented his decision. He would return to the town, and no matter what rumours were spread, he would make her life the happiest possible. He looked at her, and at the wonder in her eyes at the colours of the setting sun. She was still whiter than sea foam, but everyone would notice that her eyes were no longer half-closed and distant.
She leaned closer to him, smiling. He took the invitation and kissed her. She was no longer cold.
"You are fully human. How do you feel?" he breathed. It would be a long while before he got used to the brilliance of her new awareness of light and dark.
She hummed contently and sidled closer to him.
"Let us return. There is much to do if people are to accept this sudden miracle." He took her hand and led her down, and together they walked to the village.
…
It took a few more hours before Christine realised that she was walking about on all fours. The clear scales that now covered most of her had hardened to white, porcelain-looking plates. When she looked down and saw the transformation of her feet, she sat down and wept hot, salty tears. She hugged herself with fingers now ivory-tipped, only slightly comforted that she still had the one human ability to shed tears.
Erik emerged from his tunnels and nuzzled her. His mouth and head, which once could have swallowed her whole, now could only have swallowed about two-thirds of her. She had grown several feet without knowing, some from her legs and arms and body, and some from her newly arched neck. The hide garment she'd grown to love, that too was growing tighter.
The great black dragon hummed and dropped a carcass at her feet, and almost to her horror, the smell of fresh blood elicited a rumble in her gut. She covered her face with Erik's ridge of horns, confused when the scales there felt soft to the touch.
"I am afraid, Erik," she said into his neck, then stopped, for her own voice echoed in her mind, and into Erik's.
Do not be. This is you, the real you, and with each passing day you grow more beautiful. He wondered for a moment if he should not have said anything, but found he could not regret it when her crying lessened.
"What do you mean?"
Shall I tell you a secret?
She nodded and looked at the pads of her fingers, which were now thick and sprouting small scales.
You were not born human.
"What?" Her silvery eyes widened.
Nadir scented you for magic, but he found none. This is not a spell being cast on you, Christine. This is a spell being broken.
"Then everything I have lived is a lie!" She held his neck tight. Her growled.
Nothing you have lived is a lie, little one. What you have experienced is not a lie, it is a blessing! How many dragons have wished for shorter, more vibrant, more meaningful lives instead of eternities of loneliness! You had best stop your self-pity, dragonet, he snarled.
She let go of him, and was quiet, curled in on herself. Then: "Alright. I will appreciate what I have, what you have given me."
They assumed their usual sleeping positions. It was comforting to have another being there. Under the leather cover, Erik spotted the beginnings of a graceful tail. She was indeed growing more beautiful every day. When the council saw her, fully dragon or not, they would find her beautiful. Would they see fit to take her from him?
He curled more closely around her at the thought. He had grown quite fond of her, of her company. He would not lose her to some high-minded youth or proud council.
…
Erik woke in the night more suddenly than he had in decades. The small fire he kept burning was down to coals and red-hot stones. Christine… She was gone.
He rose and ruffled his wings. Her scent was still in his nostrils, so he followed it to the mouth of his cave. She had headed inland, towards thicker forest and greenery, where it was dark. The foolish female would get herself eaten by Darks, not knowing how to breathe fire yet, or how to cast protective enchantments.
He launched himself into the night sky and had to flap hard to rise higher. The heat of the day had faded completely, so he had no warm, rising air to keep him up. The wind was also blowing towards the sea now, against his chosen path.
Christine's footprints skittered across the dry grass and mud, and he could see she was still resisting her transformation. She had started off walking on just her back legs, but this had been clumsy, and she'd tripped in the dirt. He even smelled the salt of a few shed tears, the last of her spellbound humanity.
Then she had given up and resigned herself to travelling on all fours, despite the little strength in her developing forelegs. The silly dragonet had gone off and not thought to protect her front talons, which were still soft with undeveloped scales and part-human skin. This had left a small, few drops of blood that stung his sensory organs.
A little ways further he found that there was a definite difference in size between the more recent prints and the prints from when she had first left the cave. Now what had been her human heels were raised off the ground, like his own, and her toes were longer, with sharp claws that would pierce the soil with every step. The changes had accelerated.
The forest border approached, and he landed to continue on foot. The ground was damp and smelled of peat and dew. The trees impeded his progress somewhat, but a few miles in the shrubbery faded and the trees grew gigantic. A few deer ran from him when he disturbed their dens, but he was uninterested in food now. Christine's scent had grown sharper. She was not far away.
A new smell disturbed his search: fresh blood, from an old buck. She has hunted already? Impressive, for one so small and inexperienced. He bent his head lower to pick up the trail again. Christine had changed course here, heading for the source of life, a spring. There was another growth spurt. Now, judging from her prints, she would be about half his size, and stumbling constantly.
It took a few more miles for him to find her.
She looked nothing like the awkward, skinny little humanoid thing now. There was no remnant of her human hair on her head, and her spines were long and white. She didn't seem to notice him, so he lay down to watch her eat with much gusto.
He noted with some amusement that she was a dainty eater in that she kept very clean, but she enjoyed her food. She had downed about a quarter of the animal when she looked up and saw him.
Her eyes were a startling silver, like moonlight, with little sclera to be seen, and deep, dark pupils.
Erik. She clearly had not expected him, and lowered her head in embarrassment, giving him a very good view of her new graces, two slender wings, folded neatly against her back. They would be beautiful silhouetted against the sun. Now, they shimmered in the light of a three quarter moon.
Christine. May I join you? he asked, mindful of the etiquette attached to sharing prey.
You need not ask. I will not be able to finish this myself. Her eyes lifted to his, and he was sure he had never seen anything so beautiful.
He stepped towards her, through the shallow waters of the creek, and ate with Christine, wondering if she remembered that sharing food was something dragons did to bond as mates. She showed no remembrance of the times he had told her of dragon courtesy, for surely if she knew she would have asked him to hunt for his own meal.
When the carcass was stripped down to bones, they washed in the running water and walked back home.
…
Christine blinked. It was comfortably warm, and surprisingly soft where she lay. Erik was behind her, looking smaller than he ever had, but still enormous in comparison to her own frame. Then it occurred to her that everything was smaller, including the cave. What had seemed like an eternity of blackness before was now a cozy hole.
The sun was well into the sky, but the usual hunger that accompanied mornings was absent. Her new body digested food much slower, it seemed.
She swivelled her head about to watch Erik sleep. Now that she had accepted dragon life, she could see that he was, beyond the bad scarring and missing scales, a fine specimen, probably in the midst of his prime. From a certain angle, he even looked noble.
And what am I? Am I just a youngling to him, runty and novice? Am I desirable? Then she reprimanded herself for even wondering. Of course Erik could not look upon her in that way. She had been human when they first met, and he had witnessed every embarrassment of her morph. He probably looks upon me as a freak of nature.
He stirred behind her. She noted with a slight thrill that he had placed his wing over her, just as before, only now it was as if a blanket covered her, not a gigantic tent.
Good morrow, he rumbled. He would have said more, had Nadir not swept in on the morning zephyr.
Good morning, lovebirds! Erik growled his annoyance, and his spines stood straight with angst. The Persian assumed too much for his own good; what if Christine did not want to be mated with him?
Nadir, for once in your life, could you improve your timing? It needs a mite more tact to it.
Truly? I say my timing is perfect.
Your timing is wretched. Erik stood and folded his wings, and Christine missed the warmth. She stretched and blinked, unused to the sensation of slightly cramped forelegs. Nadir glided over to her, eyes narrowed approvingly.
You look well, Christine. Have you at last come to terms with the change?
I have, she replied, but I still cannot fly. Erik remembered the first time he'd had to fly. It had involved more falling than flying.
Care to teach the youngling how to fly, Persian?
Nadir gave a fabulous eye-roll. That is your task, I prefer not to risk life and limb jumping off cliffs and over treacherous waterfalls.
Who said I was going to push her over a cliff? Erik asked.
Christine bumped the black dragon with her shoulder before she could think better of it and shy away. He stumbled in surprise. You will have to catch me before you can push me over a cliff or a fall. Then she leapt out and started running towards the sea.
Erik blinked. The snap of his eyelids was almost audible. The Persian snorted.
Well, will you go after her, or will you let her drown herself in the sea?
I will go, he grumbled. But I know what devious things you think of: do not indulge your romantic delusions. Christine deserves to have a mate younger than I, and more…stable. He tucked his wings tight against him and indulged her game of running through the grasses.
I think my ideas are not delusions! Enjoy yourselves! Nadir called after them. Erik huffed and ignored him.
Christine dashed towards the water, not stopping to wonder what she was doing. Maybe it was just something her new body wanted to do, play in the water like a mer. She came to a ledge where the waves pounded against the rock and leapt in, opening her eyes to watch the fish go by.
She swam out to the darker waters, and deeper where it was almost peaceful. Rays of sunlight pierced the waves above to create glittering patterns on the beds of shellfish below. far away, perhaps a few miles out, she could see great serpents and sea dragons like silvery ribbons against shoals of fish, eating their catch whole. The ocean hummed with life.
There has never been any human to see this. It filled her with awe that she was seeing things unknown to humanity.
A splash sounded behind her, muffled through the water, and she turned. Erik. Have you ever seen anything so beautiful as this? He hummed, and it resonated through the depths like a song. He stopped beside her and guided her back to the surface.
I have seen things as beautiful…and more.